


Decade

by gryffindorJ



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Blow Jobs, First Time, Frottage, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Rimming, Secret Snarry Swap 2017, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-09 15:28:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12890895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryffindorJ/pseuds/gryffindorJ
Summary: Harry told him. Harry simultaneously felt the burden of his secret lift and the weight of what this would mean for Severus collapsed in on him. Severus certainly would be able to help and, at the same time, he was sure to feel betrayed that Harry was only telling him now.





	Decade

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY SNARRY SWAP! I hope you love it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Sorry it's sad in parts but Harry and Severus fuck A LOT to make up for it. 
> 
> Prompt 28 from torino10154: Something with time travel or an alternate universe/reality.

Harry's eyes roamed over the parchment, not really reading Ron's splotchy scrawl. The words, so familiar by now, managed to sink in anyway. Another funeral, this one was for Fred, tomorrow. Harry's vision went suddenly blurry as he felt the loss brand new, all over again. 

Colin Creevy's funeral had been the start. Harry hadn't wanted to go, he had only wanted to sleep, but he knew he had to. He saw Dennis, their Muggle parents, their confused but well-meaning Muggle friends and it had crushed Harry. Sitting on the last pew in a suit Hermione had told him to wear, the grief, the guilt, the pain all overwhelmed him and tears flowed freely down his cheeks. He had managed to pull himself together enough to see Dennis and shake their dad's hand, and then Harry was out of there. He was gone and hurrying back to Gryffindor tower, to his bed, back to sleep before he made even more of an idiot of himself. 

Early the next day had been Moody's funeral. It was a bit odd considering how long ago he had been killed but he apparently had a brother, some nieces and nephews who wanted a service for him. The gathering was a lot of remembering of his glory days as an Auror. The words went around Harry and all he could picture, as he sat there by Bill, was the gnarled tree where he had buried the last found remains of Moody. Maybe Harry should tell the family? The indecision of what to do coiled in Harry's chest, the onus of this knowledge making him sick. 

Harry had sat there, throat constricted the entire time. He couldn't cry in front of Bill, though Harry did notice as he left that Bill's eyes were a little wet. 

And today. Today had been Remus and Tonks' funeral. Their joint service. 

The problem with funerals was that you invariably thought of death and people who had died before. It was already enough that this was Remus, and then Colin's death felt new again and Moody's death felt new. By far the worst was Sirius's death, coming back as fresh as if it were yesterday. And, the next wave of grief was for his dad and mum. 

The funeral had mostly been about Tonks; Harry was certain Andromeda had only had Remus mentioned for the sake of Teddy. As if he would ever know the difference, he was only a tiny baby held protectively in his grandmother's arms. Harry sat with his jaw clenched, consumed by anger. Anger was the easiest emotion to deal with at this point. How dare they not talk about Remus and his kindness, his goodness, how clever he was. How dare they not speak about him being not only an amazing teacher but a mentor, a true guide. 

Harry stormed out of there in a fury. The pain had threatened to choke him. Did choke him. Not until he was back on Hogwarts grounds did he feel a tearing in his chest as tears once again threatened to break the dam he was trying so hard to build. 

He thought about what should have been Remus’s funeral and the hot tears ran down his cheeks. He wiped his cheeks roughly with the back of his hand and found that was he was sitting at the base of a column that was covered in owl shit. He didn't recall sitting but now didn't think he could get up. 

He looked toward the gaping hole in the side of the owlery and the pile of rubble no one had cleaned yet. The owls were all cooing softly in their sleep and no Hedwig. Death was Harry's constant companion.

Tomorrow would be Fred’s funeral, and Lavender’s after that. Bathilda Bagshot’s was early next week. Harry had an endless string of funerals to attend. Hermione had told him he should go. It was expected, people wanted to see him, have his comfort. 

In this desperately sad moment, Bathilda's seemed a step too far. 

How in the hell was he supposed to go sit in the sodding church next to the graveyard where his parents were buried for a funeral of a woman he only knew as a reanimated corpse? It wouldn't be a funeral he sat through, it would be a nightmare he would be forced to relive. It was too fucking much. 

Harry stood up so suddenly that some of the owls looked wide-eyed at him. He crushed the letter from Ron in his hand and stormed from the room. 

The castle was mostly deserted now, everyone having gone home except for people like Harry who had no home to go to. Most of the teachers were here. He saw McGonagall regularly, managing clean up. He saw other teachers too. Slughorn seemed a bit cagey and Harry only caught a glimpse of him here and there.

Christ. Harry stopped suddenly, gripping the wall. Snape. Severus. The thought of Slughorn had reminded him that surely Snape would have a funeral. Who would the mourners be? Malfoy? Snape’s was one funeral that Harry couldn’t possibly skip, but the thought of trying to get through it, with all the complex feelings he had about Snape swirling around inside him, with the likes of Malfoy looking on, made him want to die. At the same time, Harry didn’t think he could live with himself if he ducked out of paying his respects – the man had protected Harry to his last breath. That last awful, gasping breath.

Harry felt completely broken all over again and lurched away from the wall, making his way on a nonsensical, circuitous route back to Gryffindor tower. 

The castle, destroyed as it was, held more mysteries than Harry had ever dreamed. He had to find new ways to old places, passing through corridors and crannies that Filch had neglected for ages. 

He lit his wand as he entered a dark corridor. He had only been down it once before and there was not a single window or torch to light his way. He rounded a corner and heard the trickling of water – funny he wasn't anywhere near the lake – and the beam from his wand lit pearl essence floating in the air. 

"Hello! Who’s there?" 

"It's me," Harry replied. "How are you, Nick?" 

"Surprised you're out," Nick replied. "I didn't think you left Gryffindor Tower often." 

"Only to go to funerals," Harry said spitefully. "You've probably been to loads." 

"I have. They're not always so bad. Dumbledore's, that was awful..." 

It was as if someone had kicked him in the chest as the pain and despair of Dumbledore’s death piled on top of all the others. How had he neglected to think of Dumbledore? His funeral had been the first one Harry had ever gone to. It hadn’t suited Dumbledore, with the exception of the appearance by the centaurs and merpeople. Harry was caught by a sudden memory of Dumbledore's body lying crooked and lifeless at the base of a tower, followed by Sirius's laughter the moment before he died, and visions of a flash of green light that took his parents. 

"...in 1610 or was it 1622? No matter, I went to a funeral of a friend who had not one, not two, but three wives –" 

"Nick!" Harry said, interrupting him. 

"Oh sorry, Harry, what is it? Need some advice?" Nick said solicitously. 

Harry sighed heavily and replied, "No. Don't think that will help. It doesn't sound like you know how to get out of going to a funeral." 

"I'm afraid I do not. Perhaps something else?" 

Harry leaned against the wall. The stone was slightly wet and the dampness crept through his robes. He moved his wand around, trying to get some idea of where he was but the light fell across more stone and then an empty portrait he had never seen before. His head was beginning to hurt. His body ached with grief. 

"I only wish –" Harry began thinking he should say nothing but at least with Nick he wouldn't sound ridiculous. "I don't want to go to funerals, I don't want to wait for the castle to be rebuilt, I don't want to have to figure out what's next. I've done enough!" 

"That sounds fair –" 

"I wish it was, I don't know, ten years from now. I wish I could wake up and it's been ten years and life is normal," Harry said and pushed himself away from the wall. "I'm sorry, Nick, I should go." 

"It's all right, Harry, I'm always here if you need me." 

Harry scoffed, "I don't even know where here is." 

"Neither do I," Nick replied. "It's somewhat familiar but I best go this way if I want to get to the staff room." 

Harry lowered his wand as Nick disappeared through a wall and Harry continued trying to find his way back to Gryffindor tower. 

It was a comfort to see when he got to the common room that dinner had been laid out for him. He had stew and enough treacle tart to feed twenty people. Harry ate all of it, his stomach aching as he shuffled off to bed still having no idea how he would get through tomorrow.

X

Harry slid from his bed. His eyes were bleary with sleep and blurry without his glasses. He rubbed his eyes, grabbed his glasses, and shuffled sleepily to the loo.

He stood over the toilet and slid his hand into his pants, scratching his balls idly, slightly annoyed that his cock was still mostly hard. He'd been having another erotic dream. This time someone was riding his cock slow and steady. He couldn't remember much other than the hands—the hands gripping the bed, the long pale fingers digging into the mattress. He could still see the knobbiness of the knuckles, the tendons from each finger standing out, and the small dusting of dark hair near the wrist. Harry tried to brush the images away. It wasn't the first time he had dreamed, or even thought, of a bloke in that way. 

He did his best to put the thoughts of the dream aside or he'd never be able to piss. He put one hand flat to the wall in front of him, leaning over the toilet, and breathing deeply, trying to get the relief to come. 

A huge sigh left him as he was finally able to go, and his cock finally started to relax. He walked slowly to the basin to wash his hands before going back to bed. It was early, no need to face the day. 

The water was warm across his skin and he leaned over, splashing some across his cheeks and eyes. He scrubbed his face with his hands. His jaw felt rather prickly. He'd have to shave today. He had done so only yesterday and usually he could go a few days without having to do it again. He slid his glasses onto his face and looked in the mirror to check how badly he needed a shave. 

Harry startled at the reflection that was staring wide-eyed back at him. He looked over his shoulder, then over the other one, and then back to the mirror. It was him but it wasn't him. The person staring back at Harry was older, an adult. 

Harry stepped to the next mirror, and the one beside that, but the reflections were all the same. He took a step back, looking down at himself. Those were his feet and his knobby knees, but his legs were different. They had more hair than before and they were stronger, the muscles lean and apparent. He was thicker about the waist and his stomach and chest had lost the skinny, underfed look he’d been cultivating much of his life, and even more so in the last year. He ran his hand across his stomach feeling the firmness of it, and up his chest and the curve of the muscles there. He seemed to have put on two stone of pure muscle overnight.

He rubbed his eyes and looked in the mirror again. That older, more angular face with the heavy beard blinked back at him.

He dashed from the bathroom, heart pounding. He needed his wand. He had been so stupid to not keep it on him everywhere. He found it under his pillow, exactly where he had left it. He didn't realise until he had it in his hand that he was panicked it might have been gone. 

He straightened up, looking around. Every bed was full. A boy was fast asleep in each of them. Harry could see the tops of their heads. Blonds and browns, no reds. No Ron. This was his dormitory and if anyone was here, Ron should be. He stood frozen in the middle of the floor. 

An alarm clock sounded from the bed next to Harry's, startling him. There was something wrong and the boys were about to all wake up and discover him. He had the presence of mind to grab a set of robes hanging over the edge of a bed before running from the room. 

He threw the robes on as he ran down the spiral stairs to the Gryffindor Common Room. He came to a sharp stop. Again, nothing was quite right. It was his common room but the furniture had changed. Instead of arm chairs, there were two sofas, and the tables were different. The mantelpiece above the fire was new and shiny and yet it looked like it had seen hundreds of fires. 

Harry saw a pair of muddy trainers sitting under one table and grabbed them as he headed to the portrait hole. He scrambled out and hurried down the corridor, not stopping as the Fat Lady yelled at him for waking her so early. 

He rounded a corner, and another, then another, not knowing where he was going. Harry came to a stop in a alcove, and slumped against the wall. 

He rubbed his forehead whispering sharply to himself to, "Think!" 

What did he know? What was he certain about? 

He knew he was Harry. He looked mostly like himself but now he looked like a person who was much closer to thirty than seventeen.

He had his wand. That was good. This was Hogwarts but not his Hogwarts. It was wrong. Sounds of the day starting started to filter to him. Shit. That meant there would be students everywhere on their way to breakfast very soon. He had to go. 

Harry stuffed his feet into the trainers. They were a bit small and they were soaking wet. He winced as he took a step and water squished between his toes. He pointed his wand at each one whispering the spell to evaporate the water.

He tried to do up the robes but they were much too tight. He tried to remember the spell that would make them bigger. "Shit," Harry said under his breath, he couldn't remember it. He slid off the robes, held them at arm's length in front of him, pointing his wand with his other hand. " _Engorgio_ ," he whispered. It wasn't the best spell for the job but it would do. He slid the robes back on, noticing that he had been a bit too aggressive with the charm. The robes now hung down to his laces and the sleeves reached his fingertips. 

He hurried down the corridor, still not sure where he was. He looked for a sign, anything that would give him a hint where he was. But the castle looked wrong. For one thing, it was too clean. "Filch must've been replaced," Harry muttered to himself. He wouldn't go so far as to eat off the floor but there weren't cobwebs anywhere. 

Harry hurried down a flight of stairs and saw, down the corridor, the unmistakable gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's Office. Good. Now he knew where he was. 

He found the flight of stars that would take him to the entrance and was rushing down it when he heard, "Mr Potter?" He stopped. He should've kept going, but he knew the voice. 

He turned slowly around, "Professor McGonagall?" He didn't mean to have the question in his voice but the woman behind him had quite a bit of white hair, and her face looked less sharp, softened by age. 

"To what do we owe the pleasure of the Head Auror amongst us?" The words were friendly, but her tone sounded suspicious. 

Head Auror? Who, him? Harry? He scratched his neck, racking his brain for an answer. "The library?" he said hopefully. 

"You've come for the library?" McGonagall said, her lips thin. 

"Yes," Harry said quickly. "It's the best one there is, I was hoping to find something there." 

"Madam Pince let you in this early?" 

"No, Professor," Harry said seriously. "You know how she is about the rules. Even for me." Harry shrugged trying to sound sheepish and cheeky at the same time. 

McGonagall's nostrils flared. "Some things never change," she said dryly. "Breakfast, Potter? While you're here." 

"Thank you," Harry said. "But no. I need to get...the Ministry. The office. Very important case..." Harry trailed off, not sure what Aurors said. What people with jobs said. 

"Very well. Come by for tea, soon. It's been too long." 

"Right, Professor." Harry turned and hurried down the stairs and out of the castle. Once out of the front doors he practically sprinted to the front gates as he saw Hagrid coming up from his hut. 

He swung the gates closed behind him and, because he had no other idea where to go, he thought of the dingy alley by the entrance to the Ministry. 

He Apparated next to a couple of overflowing bins and knew he had arrived at the right spot. He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the broken old phone booth. He hurried to it and picked up the receiver, dialling "6-2-4-4-2," grateful he remembered it. 

The cool voice sounded around Harry. "Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business." 

Harry cleared his throat and said, "Harry Potter. Errr...arriving for work, I guess." 

There was a click from the phone and the silver badge came sliding out, _Harry Potter, Head Auror_ it read. Harry took it, shoving it in his pocket. He must really be Head Auror. The floor of the phone box sank below the pavement, shuddering and clunking around him. Golden light finally engulfed him and he squinted his eyes. "The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day," the voice said as the door opened and Harry stepped out. 

The entrance hall looked very different from the other times Harry had seen it. The fountain of magical brethren was gone, as was the disgusting statue Voldemort had built. Instead, there was a single statue in the middle of a fountain, the unmistakable form of a Phoenix wrought in gold. So shiny, almost fiery, that it was in total opposition to the cool blue water that encircled it. 

He headed towards the lifts, intent on finding his office – as odd as that felt to think about – when he noticed the back of a woman with very bushy hair. A wave a relief went through him. "Hermione!" he called. 

She looked over her shoulder and turned around to wait for him. She looked wrong, too. She was wearing professional robes, and her features were a bit sharper than he was used to, but her hair, her eyes, they were the same. 

Harry beamed as he stepped to her. She looked at him through narrowed eyes, studying his face. 

"What's wrong?" she asked. "You don't look right, what's happened?" She looked him up and down, taking in his ill-fitting robes and muddy trainers, then back to his face. She looked honestly concerned. 

"Nothing," Harry said quickly. "It's good to see you." He pulled her in for a hug, grateful for the cloud of hair that surrounded him. He leaned back and smiled at her again. "Your hair, it's the same." 

"Yes," she replied impatiently. She took out an elastic and pulled her hair into a hasty bun. "I’m late and you’re worrying me. What’s wrong? You look...weird." 

"I feel weird," Harry replied. 

"Were you on surveillance? Did you get hit with a spell?" she asked, studying his face. 

"No," Harry said, "I don't think so. I haven't been out on surveillance."

"Maybe you were on holiday too long,” she said, still staring at him. “Harry, I do have to go. I've a hearing in a bit." 

"I'll come with you," Harry said, following her to the lifts. 

The golden grills opened up and they stepped inside. Hermione fussed with something in her shoulder bag until they got to Level 5, the lift doors clattered open and she stepped out. "Have a nice day," she said without looking over her shoulder at Harry. He lifted his hand in a small wave, feeling a bit nervous that now he was alone again. 

Harry got off the lift at Level 2 and was happy to find the Auror department looked as it once had; a maze of cluttered cubicles. He wandered through it until he spotted a door with a sign next to it that said, ‘Head Auror,’ and had his name under it. 

He touched the door handle, hoping that it wasn’t locked. He exhaled when it opened right up for him. He paused at the threshold, looking around the large office. Something was wrong. If this was his office it was all wrong; it was very neat and clean. 

He closed the door quietly behind him, afraid that anyone who saw him would know something was wrong. Once inside, he caught sight of a stack of boxes with neat, square writing labelling each one. He crouched down closer to read them. "Harry's shit. Bottom left desk drawer." Harry blinked in surprise and moved on to the next box. "More of Harry's dumb shit. Small bookcase." Harry turned his head to read the bottom box in the stack. "Harry's extra shit. Boots, trainers, Walkman, glasses, Muggle clothes, uniforms (2)." 

"Yes," Harry whispered. He shoved the two top boxes to the floor and took the lid off the bottom one. Everything had been shrunk to fit and as Harry pulled each thing out, it returned to normal size. Tall, lace up boots, a pair of trainers that had seen better days, a small square cassette player that had to be the Walkman (though it didn't look like the one Dudley had had), and finally Auror robes came out of the box. 

Harry stood, toeing off the awful trainers and pulling the black robes up over his head and tossing them in a corner. Harry grabbed a pair of scarlet trousers, ones that only went to the middle of his calf. "What the hell?" Harry muttered as he did up the small brass buttons that led down to the small buckle at the cuff of the short trousers. The same small brass buttons adorned the flies. Harry thought they must be hell if you were in a hurry to take a piss. 

He threw on the jumper, and pulled on his socks. He looked between the trainers and boots. The trainers would look ridiculous, but why would he have them in here otherwise? 

"They go on your feet." 

Harry whirled around. A petite blond was standing in the doorway looking down at him with distinct disapproval. Harry thought he knew her but she was backlit and it was hard to see her face. 

"I know what they are," Harry said, standing up. 

"Pick one. The Minister will be here soon. He won't like it if you're running around in your socks." She strode into the room like she owned the place. "I've laid out your diary for the day. You have a very busy week, so I kept it only to daily updates. And here are the files for the cases you need to review." She pointed her wand at the corner of the desk and a large stack of folders appeared. "And use a fresh quill this time. I hate cleaning up all your fucking ink blots." 

She turned to face Harry finally. Harry knew her. He had gone to school with her. What was her name? He hadn't seen her or had classes with her for almost two years and even then they weren't exactly friends. She was a Slytherin. "Daphne?" Harry said dumbly, the name surfacing from somewhere. 

"What?" she snapped. Then she looked Harry slowly up and down. "You look like shit. What the fuck is wrong with you? Holiday took everything out of you? Christ. Today's going to be a bloody disaster." 

"You swear, a lot," Harry said, surprise at her tone overcoming the feeling of being mildly affronted. 

She snorted as she walked from the desk towards the door. "You're one to talk. Remember, no ink blots." She left the office, closing the door behind her surprisingly gently. 

Harry walked over behind the desk and flopped down in the chair. He leaned forward as if he were inspecting something explosive as he looked down at the parchment with a list of the day's events that Daphne had left. The handwriting that was on the boxes matched the one on the parchment exactly. He couldn’t make any sense of the names, acronyms, and phrases that covered the parchment. 

He flopped back in the chair and pulled off his glasses, only now noticing they weren't actually his glasses. Or rather, they must have been his glasses, as he saw fine with them, but they weren't the ones he had on yesterday. He squinted at them through blurry eyes. They were square, dark – black possibly dark brown – and very sturdy. They did look like something he might pick out. He tossed them carelessly on his desk and rubbed his face – his stubbly face – with his hands, groaning to himself. 

"Holiday that rough?" said a deep voice that Harry recognised. 

Harry grabbed for his glasses, shoving them on his face and Kingsley came into focus. He was looking at Harry expectantly for an answer. 

"Er...yeah. Guess so," Harry said and he stood slowly. 

"Harry," Daphne said from behind Kingsley. "The Minister is your 8:00." She glared at Harry as if to say _You look like an idiot!_ as she walked into the room carrying a tea tray. 

Harry looked at her and then up at Kingsley, who was watching Daphne closely -- as if he were suspicious of her but something else. 

"Daphne, you didn't have to. I'm only here for a minute," Kingsley said. 

She placed the tray on Harry's desk, then turned and said in the nicest tone Harry had heard out of her, "It's not a problem, sir. I made sure to get the ginger biscuits you like." Kingsley smiled at her and Harry noticed she sauntered out of the room. 

The door closed and Kingsley said, "Hell of an assistant you have. How'd you get her?" 

"I've no idea," Harry replied honestly. 

"Good holiday?" Kingsley asked, turning back to Harry. 

"It was alright," Harry answered. 

"Get into the water a lot or was it too cold?" Kingsley asked. "Have to be careful with cold water. Can dampen the entire thing." 

Harry blinked at Kingsley. Was he suggesting...no. Couldn't be. "It was fine," Harry replied.

"Yeah, I'm sure you two managed," Kingsley said with a smirk. "How long has it been? Five years?" 

_You two? Five years?_ "Sounds right," Harry replied, feeling like his voice was failing him. 

"Thought for sure you two ran off to get married." Kingsley looked pointedly at Harry's left hand. "Reckon I was wrong." 

"Right," Harry said. "Not married." 

"Came by to welcome you on your official first day," Kingsley said, stretching out a hand to shake Harry's. His hand was soft but his grip firm. "I've all the confidence in you. You'll be brilliant." 

"Thank you, Kings – sir," Harry said, his throat oddly tight. "I appreciate it." 

"Better take these," Kingsley said, grabbing two of the biscuits with a wink. "Want to stay on Daphne's good side." 

He walked out of the office, leaving the door open. He said a word to Daphne, who smiled and blushed at him. As soon as Kingsley was gone, she turned an icy glare at Harry. "Put on your boots. You're going to be late," she hissed.

X

Harry was marched around all day from one meeting to another, each one more confusing than the last. He was meeting with department heads, and witches and wizards he was given to think were very important but, honestly, he didn't know most of them. Percy Weasley was in one meeting and he only said a brief word to Harry – nothing that gave Harry any clues.

No one seemed to expect much from Harry, which was good, lost as he was. He got by by giving the vaguest answers possible when he was forced to actually speak.

By sheer luck, he found his own way back to his office in the early afternoon. He looked hopefully at his desk, thinking the tea tray might still be there. He was ravenous, but it was gone. 

"Daphne?" Harry said, turning around and looking at her hopefully. 

"What?" she said, without looking up from her work. 

She scared Harry a bit. How had he even hired her? "Can I get –" 

"Tea and a sandwich on their way." 

"Thank you," Harry said sincerely. 

As he sat behind his desk, a little pop sounded and a tray with the aforementioned food appeared. There was a ham sandwich, a slice of treacle tart, and a small pot of tea. Harry poured himself a cup and noticed it was brewed exactly how Harry liked it – a little strong. The entire thing was perfect. No wonder Harry had hired Daphne. She knew what she was doing when it came to tea trays at least. 

After adding a healthy dash of milk, Harry curled his hand around the mug, grabbed half his sandwich, and sat back in his chair and began to think about what he knew for sure. 

He knew he was Harry, not the Harry he saw in the mirror exactly, but he knew he was Harry at least. Everyone else confirmed he was Harry, despite the differences as compared to yesterday. 

So, what had happened between last night and this morning? 

He had been in the owlery with a letter from Ron. Had there been something in the letter? He didn’t think so and he put that aside and continued. He had been in the corridor and he’d talked to Nick. He’d said he wished it was – 

Harry sat up quickly. Putting his cup and sandwich down, he began to look at all the things on his desk. He looked at his schedule for the day, nothing. He looked for a calendar. He didn't seem to have one. He began to pull open drawers. They were all empty. In desperation, he reached for one of the files at the corner of his desk and opened it. His gaze flew around the first page until it landed on a signature in the lower left corner and the date underneath: 15 May 2008. 

"Two thousand eight?" Harry whispered, looking at the date and trying again and again to process the year. How could it be 2008? "Jesus," Harry whispered with the sudden realisation that, if he were to accept that it was truly 2008, that would make him twenty-seven. 

He looked frantically around the office for any hints, any clues about his life now. He looked for a photo, a note, anything at all. He seemed to be in a relationship, but not married, from what Kingsley said. There should be some clue to his life in his own office. Would he have kids and not be married? If he did then he certainly wasn't with Ginny. She was the kind of person who would want a wedding and those sorts of things.

If he wasn't with Ginny, then who? Ideas of who it could be entered Harry's mind and he dismissed them as easily as they arose. Not all of them were girls. He wouldn't exactly be surprised if it was a man he was with. 

His eyes fell on the boxes he had gone through earlier. Maybe there was something in there. Harry grabbed his sandwich as he went to the stack, opening the first one he came to. It was only stupid office supplies. 

"What are you doing?" Daphne demanded from the door. 

Harry almost choked on his sandwich. He coughed, swallowed, and said, "Why are you always sneaking up on me?" 

"Why are you going through the fucking boxes that I did all the fucking work to organise?" 

"It couldn't have taken you that long. Some wand waving."

"If you think all that shit is so bloody easy then you do it." 

Harry clenched his jaw, realising he was going to get nowhere arguing with his bitch of a secretary. "I'm looking for a file," Harry said through gritted teeth.

"Which one? I'll get it," she said, taking out her wand and going to the boxes. 

Harry thought quickly and said, "I can't tell you. I need a personnel file for an employee. I can't remember how to request one." 

"Honestly," she replied with a tolerant roll of the eyes. "Why didn't you say so?" 

She waved her wand and a small box floated out of one of the boxes and to Harry's desk. "All Ministry employees are listed in the box. Take out the name to get the file. And this time it's _all_ employees since your clearance went through." 

Daphne left the room as promptly as she came in and closed the door behind her. Harry pulled up a chair and turned the box to face him. It looked a lot like a card catalogue in a library. Each card had a name at the top. He flipped to the P's until he found _Potter, Harry_. He pulled the card out and a very heavy file suddenly appeared in his hand. 

He flipped it open as he placed it on the desk and saw his photo on the inside cover. The Harry in the photo kept messing with his fringe and then looking back at the camera. This Harry also looked a lot more like the one Harry remembered looking like yesterday. 

Harry flipped through the file. It was pretty unhelpful for his current purposes, aside from his date of employment: 05 September 1999. He wondered what he had done the year between the final battle and starting Auror training. Putting that aside for thought later, he flipped to the next page and found all of his marks from Auror Training. He nodded, mildly impressed with himself – he had done well. The uncomfortable thought that his name probably carried some weight, and he might not have earned every one of those marks, floated through is head.

He looked down and saw his scores for the Potions section. "Hope there's a bezoar in my pocket," Harry said to himself, noting he had barely passed that part. It did make him feel better about his other scores though. 

The rest of the file was pretty uninteresting. He flipped through medical releases, injury reports, records of pay rises, numbers stuff he couldn't be fussed with. "That's more like it," Harry said, flipping past all the other information. On the inside of the back cover of the file was his personal information – his name, birthday, and years he was at school. His O.W.L scores were there, next to empty boxes where his N.E.W.T scores should've been. He breathed a sigh of relief. When he did get back to his own time, he wouldn’t need to revise for those. 

And there, finally, was his address. He lived in Battersea and that was all he got. No spouse or family information was listed. His next-of-kin was Hermione. He had probably filled this crap in on his first day and promptly forgotten about it. 

"Jesus, Harry, update your shit," he said, annoyed with himself.

There was a knock at his door, "Come in," he called, closing the file and Banishing it to the box. Daphne walked in and said, "You're late for your meeting." 

"I'm sure they're used to it," Harry said, standing from the desk, still annoyed with his past self being unhelpful to his future self. 

"They are," Daphne assured Harry as he walked past her to the corridor. 

"Where this time?" Harry said with a sigh. 

"St Mungo's. Physical for the Head Auror." Daphne almost simpered. 

Harry gave Daphne a dark look. "I can't cancel?" She shook her head. "This is a crap day." 

"Shit, Harry. It's a shit day."

X

By the time the Healers were done, it was nearing six. There was no way Harry was going back to the Ministry now. He focused on the address in Battersea and turned on the spot. He appeared on the rain-soaked front steps of a terrace house.

He went down the steps to the pavement to look back up at the house. It was red brick with large, white-framed windows. It didn't look so bad. 

Harry went up the steps to the front door, which simply unlatched at his touched. He saw immediately that he could either go up a few stairs or down. There was a light on up the stairs and he heard noises. Someone was clearly making dinner. He climbed the stairs which led to a large sitting room. 

The floors were very solid-looking wood, and one wall was completely red brick. The rest of the room was light and bright. There was a large doorway leading to the back of the house. It had to be the kitchen. He could smell whatever was cooking. His stomach grumbled loudly. He had never finished his sandwich. 

He leaned to the side, peeking through the doorway, not sure what to expect. He could only see the back of the dark trousers of the person in the kitchen. Had to be a man then. Harry leaned back and processed that. 

This didn't make the person in the kitchen his boyfriend necessarily. Maybe this was only a roommate or a housekeeper? Would Harry employ a housekeeper? Maybe he did. He did enjoy a nice warm meal. 

He stepped towards the kitchen slowly, the careful heel-to-toe of each step. He felt a bit absurd, like a robber, but he wanted to see this person before he saw Harry. 

He made it to the kitchen door without so much as a swish of his robe and leaned forward to look past it. 

He – the man – had his back to Harry. He was very lean, thinner than this Harry. He wore a simple, blue collared shirt, and his black trousers were cut perfectly across his arse. 

"Are you attempting to sneak in because you didn't do your share of the shopping like I asked?" 

The voice, the tone, it cut across Harry like slash from a knife. The man half turned to look at Harry. 

His hair, it was so short, shorter than Harry had ever seen it. And grey. It had liberal streaks of grey—stark against the black of it. He wasn't as pale as Harry remembered either. He had a light tan to his skin, like he didn't skulk in dungeons any more. His eyes though, they were exactly the same, dark as night, even as they were completely different because they weren't narrowed in hatred or suspicion. 

Harry's hand went reflexively to his throat as he looked at Snape's under his open collar. His throat was criss-crossed with faded scars but whole. The last time Harry had seen... 

"You're alive," Harry said, barely a whisper. All Harry could think of, over and over, was that long, pale throat made a ruin by Nagini, blood covering his hands, Harry's hands. 

Snape had turned back to the cooker. "Was that an apology or an excuse you mumbled?" 

Harry could only stare. Words failed him. He felt dizzy. He put a hand on the wall to steady himself. 

Snape set the spoon down he had been using in the pot and turned towards Harry. "Did you –" He stopped speaking as his eyes met Harry's. He crossed his arms almost protectively in front of himself. "What's happened to you?"

"I –" Harry started but he didn't even know where to start. 

"You look like something's happened," Snape said. "Were you out on a case today?"

"I'm in a post-holiday fog." Harry said the first thing that came to his mind. Snape looked at him, incredulous. Now that was a look Harry was comfortable with from him. "It's what everyone has said," Harry continued, defensively. 

Snape snorted with derision. "You look like it’s more than that.”

"It's been a very weird day," Harry replied. 

A tolerant frown creased Snape's face for a moment and he huffed and rolled his eyes. He turned and reached into a cabinet and pulled out a tumbler and then Summoned a bottle from another cabinet. "I did my share of the shopping, there's beer in the fridge, but you need this I think." 

He set the glass of whisky on the counter closer to Harry then turned back to the stove. 

"Go take off your robes. I've made dinner, again. It's almost ready." 

Harry hadn't the first idea where to go so he slipped off his robes and threw them over the back of a sofa. From the pristine state of the house, he'd bet Snape wouldn't like that, but it couldn't be helped. 

Harry walked back into the kitchen, grabbed his tumbler and sat at the table. 

"Your Muggle post came today. Your credit card bill is due and the bill for your telly." Snape turned and reached to a cabinet, pulling out some sort of spice. Harry couldn't keep his eyes off him. The light flex of his arms as he stirred the food, the way his long fingers glided past each other as he crumbled the spice into the pot. Harry's eyes kept going back to his throat and he saw the small distinct pulse. Alive. 

"Harry," Snape said, turning towards him, annoyance clear in his voice. "Are you listening?" 

"I'm listening," Harry bristled. 

"You clearly weren't when I told you last night not to forget your shopping." Snape turned away and continued fussing with the food. 

Harry took a sip of his drink, thinking there might not be enough whisky in all of Britain to help. Not only was Snape alive but Harry lived with him?

Snape and he, they could never be…together. They would never. It wasn't possible, Harry told himself, trying in vain to unravel his confusion. 

Snape levitated the large pot to the table where Harry sat. It landed smoothly on a ceramic trivet that had been placed between them. 

"Only the two of us?" Harry asked, hoping the question would clarify the situation a bit. 

"Did you invite someone over? If that doorbell rings or so much as a breeze comes from the Floo then I hope you’ve learned how to put a protective charm around your bollocks." Harry couldn't help but snort a laugh; that sounded much more like the Snape he knew. 

Snape took his seat across from Harry and muttered, "Sorry there's no rice. Someone didn't do their shopping."

"I'M SORRY! ALL RIGHT?" Harry couldn't keep it in any more. He was trying to think, trying to take in the impossibility of his situation. He couldn’t bloody think when Snape kept riding his arse about the fucking shopping.

Snape looked at him in a way that made Harry immediately cover his balls with one hand. Then suddenly Snape's hand was on Harry's other hand where it lay on the table. Snape squeezed it gently. 

"I'm sorry. I knew you had a busy day. Missed you is all. I liked having you to myself for two weeks." 

Harry couldn't do anything but watch where Snape touched him. He heard what Snape had said but all he could do was stare at Snape's casual, intimate touch and think: _Right. Not dead and he's my boyfriend._

X

" _Accio_ pyjamas!" Harry said for the third time with no result. "What the hell?" he said, tossing his wand aside as he rifled through the drawers that were apparently his again. He had at least forty pairs of socks but no pyjamas?

"What's the matter?" Snape said, walking into the bedroom in a pair of striped pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt that looked like one Harry got from the Quidditch World Cup when he was a kid. 

"I can't find my pyjamas," Harry said, turning away from Snape trying not to think too much about noticing Snape's arse, again. 

"You have pyjamas?" Snape asked from behind Harry. "Are you cold? Or is there a reason you don't want to be in your pants in front of me?" 

Harry felt not only his entire face heat but his neck, and down his chest. "No it's..." but any excuse failed Harry, shocked as he was at getting into bed next to Snape at all, much less practically naked. 

Harry snatched a pair of boxer shorts from the drawer and hurried to the bathroom. He could feel Snape's gaze follow him the entire way. 

He changed quickly, banishing his clothes to the laundry basket – Snape had commented about him not hanging up his robes – and looked at himself in the mirror. 

"Pull your shit together," Harry whispered to himself in the mirror. "You've handled worse than this. Go in there and get in bed and go to sleep. In the morning, you'll be at Hogwarts. You'll wake up, realise you shouldn't eat so many sweets before bed and that will be the end of it." Without overthinking it any more, Harry opened the bathroom door and walked calmly over to the bed. 

"What?" he said, coming to a stop as he noticed Snape watching him closely. "What's wrong?" Harry looked down at himself. He had to admit that being an Auror seemed to keep him pretty fit.

"I'm looking to see if there's been any spell damage," Snape said dryly. 

"Spell damage?" Harry said, running a hand across his chest.

"You're acting odd and I don't want to wake up to you trying to strangle me because your brains have been addled." 

"My brains haven't been addled." 

"Then get some sleep. Tomorrow you'll be better." 

Harry pulled the covers up to his chin as he got into bed and rolled onto his side, away from Snape. 

_Brains addled,_ Harry thought angrily. His brains were fine. It would be easier if that were all it was. Then he could go to St. Mungo’s and get sorted. As it was, he had no idea what to do.

He extended one leg out as a small cramp went through his hip. That only made the cramp intensify and he rolled onto his back. 

Harry had thought and thought all day about what was going on, what had happened, and answers seemed to be more elusive the more he thought about it. He pulled one hand out from under the covers and ran it through his hair, trying to force his mind to stop, to relax. He needed to get some sleep. 

"Stop moving," Snape said beside Harry. 

"I'm uncomfortable," Harry snapped. 

"What's the matter?" Snape said with a huff. 

"Stomach ache." 

"There's some _Finite Fart_ in the cabinet in the bathroom. It worked last time you had curry from that dodgy place. Take some or go to the sofa." Snape rolled over away from Harry. 

Harry didn't think the day could get any stranger but hearing Snape say the word _fart_ managed it. The sofa sounded like a very good idea and, taking the invitation, Harry got out of bed and went to the living room.

X

Harry rubbed his face in the pillow and the rasp of his beard was the only clue he needed that he wasn't back at Hogwarts. He groaned as he half-rolled, half-fell off the couch.

He glanced at himself in the mirror as he passed it and noticed that he had a nearly full beard this morning. He'd have to shave again. He'd wait till after he showered though. 

Harry let his forehead fall against the tiles as the hot water ran down his back. "Merlin. Jesus. Fuck," Harry whispered to himself thinking about how he was going to get through this day. He hated thinking about it but think about it was all it was all he could seem to do. He was so much better when he had to _do_ something about a situation. 

The thought of Snape asleep in his bed, Christ, _their_ bed, came to mind and an image of Snape in those pyjamas. Harry's cock seemed very interested in that thought. He tried to think of something else as he wrapped his hand around his hard cock. 

He thought of Oliver Wood in his Quidditch kit, that always got him going. He thought about the way Charlie Weasley's tattoos looked on his well-defined arms. "Yeah," Harry groaned, stroking himself in interest. The sudden image of Snape in his pyjamas came to Harry, the way they draped across his arse, the seam going down between.

He tried to switch the images to Quidditch players but Snape, and the way his hands moved stirring dinner last night, popped up again.

"Oh, fuck," Harry groaned, giving over to the thought. He stroked faster and worked his hand over the head, pulling his foreskin back. Gliding his hand back over the head of his cock and down his shaft. His orgasm suddenly coursed through him as he remembered the open collar of Snape's shirt, his delicate skin. 

He came hard and fast on the shower wall. The delicious feel of relief coursed through his entire body. 

Harry stepped back into the spray, breathing fast and finally feeling like maybe he could get through the day. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes, letting the water wash over his face. 

He scrubbed himself thoroughly, not wanting to go through the day feeling like he’d crawled out of the bottom of a bin. When he stepped out of the shower, he felt relaxed and maybe a bit more clear-headed. He wrapped a towel around his waist as he stood in front of the mirror, cleaning off the condensation so he could shave. 

His hair was much thicker than before. He must have to shave every day as a grown-up. Harry couldn't imagine himself growing any sort of facial hair. He thought he'd look a bit like a twat if he tried a goatee or something. 

He was taking one last pass under his jawbone when the bathroom door opened and Snape walked in. "Up early," Snape said, in a near grunt. 

"Busy day," Harry said, pointedly not looking at Snape's sleep-tousled hair and pyjama-clad body. 

"Already showered?" Snape asked with a quirk of his brow. 

"Er...yeah..." 

"That's disappointing. I thought you'd wait for me," Snape said as he passed Harry and lightly touched him on the hip. 

Harry's eyes suddenly shot to the shower which didn't exactly look big enough for two. Then to the wall, hoping to God he had rinsed off his come. He caught Snape looking at him in the mirror, their eyes met. "Busy day," Harry said again and hurried from the bathroom.

X

Harry sighed with relief when he saw the strip of light from under Hermione's door. He reached for the door handle and stopped when he caught a glimpse of the nameplate. _Hermione Weasley_ it read. Harry smiled to himself. At least everything with Ron and Hermione was more or less the same.

"Hey," Harry said, pushing open the door. 

Hermione glanced up from the parchment in front of her, pushed her hair off her forehead, and looked back down again, making hurried notes on the parchment. "I'm swamped. What is it?" 

"I have to tell you something," Harry said after a moment of hesitation. 

"Can it wait until lunch?" Hermione replied as she continued to scribble away. 

"Hermione," Harry said, needing her to listen. 

"What?" she said, looking up at him again. 

"Two nights ago I went to sleep at Hogwarts. I had just come back from Remus's funeral. I woke up and I was here. Not here at the Ministry, I was still at Hogwarts but –" He paused at the alarmed look on her face.

"Remus's funeral was ten years ago," she said slowly, her quill poised in mid-scribble. 

"To you, yes, but to me it was two days ago," Harry said, silently begging her to understand. 

Hermione put her quill down, sighed, and sat back in her chair. She slowly looked Harry up, down, and back up again. "Have you been in the field?" she asked. 

"No. I've been on holiday. Not me, the older me." 

Something of his desperation must have shown in his face because Hermione stood and came around from behind her desk and took Harry's arm. "Sit down," she said, guiding him to a chair. She sat down in the one next to him. "Start from the beginning." 

"I did start from the beginning," Harry snapped, exasperated. Hermione gave him an even stare. He took a slow breath and tried again. "A couple nights ago, I was me, Harry. I'm seventeen...or _was_. I was having a really bad day because of all the funerals –" Harry stopped, the grief suddenly piercing his heart all over again. He closed his eyes and continued. "The people who died at the battle at Hogwarts. I went to sleep, in my dormitory. Only me. I woke up and I wasn't seventeen any more. I should be skinny and not have so much hair, and I can’t be Head Auror and, Hermione, _Snape_ and I sleep in the same bed." 

Harry opened his eyes and was glad to see that Hermione’s expression had changed from annoyance and disbelief to caution and sympathy.

"Tell me what happened before you went to bed. When you were still seventeen," Hermione said. 

"I had stew, a bunch of pudding, then I went to sleep." 

Hermione rolled her eyes. "No. Did you see anyone? Did you talk to anyone? Tell me what happened after Remus's funeral. Tell me everything, even if you think I already know or that it doesn’t matter." 

Harry told Hermione about being in the owlery and being upset about everyone dying. He was glad he was talking to Hermione. He didn't have to pretend for her. He told her about the letters and the grief, and how it hurt like he couldn't imagine. He told her he’d left and run into Nearly Headless Nick and how he’d talked to Nick and then gone back to the dormitory where he’d had dinner and gone to bed. 

"What did you say to Nearly Headless Nick?" Hermione asked. 

"I don't know," Harry replied. "Why? Do you think he did something?" 

"No. He's a ghost, he doesn't have any magic," said Hermione. "It's only that you clearly didn't want to be where you were, so maybe you put yourself somewhere else." 

"What? I can do that?" Harry said, incredulous. 

Hermione shook her head at Harry with a tolerant smile. "Desire is a large component of magic. You know that. You can't Summon something half-heartedly. How long did we work to learn that spell? You have to _mean_ it for the spell, for any spell, to work." 

"I magicked myself here?" 

Hermione pursed her lips. Clearly she was thinking hard. "Maybe not but you really wanted to be somewhere else. Your emotions are part of your strength, Harry. It's how you defeated Voldemort. But any power has to be controlled. You were really emotional right after the war. We all were," Hermione said with a sympathetic shrug. 

"Yeah, but you didn't wake up ten years later, did you?" Harry retorted. He felt stung for some reason. 

"No,” Hermione said, slowly. “What do you mean?” 

"You're blaming me and I didn't do this! I don't want to be here. I don't know how to be Head Auror, I don't know what you do at this age!" 

"I'm not blaming you. I'm trying to understand what happened so I can help you," Hermione said, with a firmer tone than she had before. 

"Well, it's not helping!" 

"Harry," she said, clearly trying to keep exasperation out of her voice. "Do you have any other theories?" 

"No. I have no idea. Hermione, please, you have to help me! Snape isn't dead and we live together." Harry covered his head in his hands as he felt a headache coming on. 

He heard Hermione open her mouth and she started to say something then stopped. She opened her mouth again and stopped again. 

"What?" he said, peeking over his fingers at her. "Tell me." 

"Harry, you can't tell Severus. That's what you call him. Don't call him Snape, he'll know. You can't tell him." She looked far more serious than she had at any other point in their conversation. 

"Don't tell him? Why? I mean I won't, but why?" 

Hermione leaned forward in her chair and touched Harry's knee. "You two, you and Severus, you're in love. If something's happened to you, it would...it wouldn't be good. It would break his heart. You, the grown-up you, you would never do anything that would hurt him. It could cause a lot of problems. And I think it would cause a lot of hurt." 

The thought of Snape – _Severus_ upset, angry, sad; that bothered Harry. He hardly knew this man but he knew he didn't want to hurt him in any way either. "What am I supposed to do?" Harry asked, feeling completely shattered. 

"Be you. You’re really not so different, if I’m remembering correctly. But, you have to be the grown-up you. Go to work, go home at night. And I'll figure this out. I need a book on wish magic, and maybe one on curses. Something. But you can't let anyone know." 

"I promise,” Harry said. “But, I can't be Head Auror –" 

"Do whatever Daphne tells you, you'll be fine." 

"If Severus...he's not an idiot. He'll figure it out. Probably already has." 

"You would know if he had. Do your best, right now, only for today."

"Snape. Hermione." Harry hesitated, biting his lower lip, but then he went for it. "I can tell I'm hurting him already. He wanted to get in bed together last night and I went to the couch and then this morning – he wanted us to shower together. I can't act normal, because I haven't even. I've never, with him, and I – I'm not meaning to but –" 

"Maybe you should try," Hermione suggested, shrugging. She was making notes on a fresh piece of parchment and Harry recognised Hermione in the throes of problem-solving. 

"Try? That's your advice? Try? Do you have any clue – " Harry felt desperate and angry. 

"I don’t know what to tell you,” she said. “Pretend you’re ill to buy us some time. I’m sorry, I am. I need a moment to catch up. We’re nearly thirty and you’re panicking about sharing a bed with a person you've slept with for the past five years!" 

"That's the older Harry, not _this_ Harry," Harry said, pounding on his chest with the flat of his hand. 

"It's been a long time since I've dealt with teenaged Harry and sorry if my planning skills aren't up to your standard! You drop this bomb on me, I believe you and then you want to be a baby about your love life. I'm sorry. I don't know. You didn't seem to mind Severus two weeks ago when I walked in on you with his hand down your pants!"

Harry's head snapped towards Hermione who put her hand over her mouth, realising she'd maybe gone too far. Harry blinked at her trying to think of what to say, trying hard not to imagine the scene Hermione was talking about but imagining it all too well. 

"Er...well..." Harry said taking off his glasses and rubbing his very warm face. "That must've been awkward." 

Hermione snorted a reluctant laugh. "Ron walked in on you two a couple years ago. You think you would've been more careful after that."

"Ron must've loved that," Harry replied dryly. 

"He still asks if I'll Obliviate him." 

Harry caught Hermione's eye. "I'm sorry, about shouting." 

"Me too," Hermione said as she stood from the chair brushing her robes. "I am sorry. I wish I could fix this for you right now. I can’t. It’s going to take some time. You’ve been through worse and more terrifying, even at this age. I'll skive off work and do some research."

Harry grinned. "You're skipping work for me?" 

"You don't know me now. I might skip work all the time," Hermione said haughtily. 

Harry gave her a straight look. "I know you. Reckon you haven't taken a sick day in ten years." 

"Not since Ron started staying home with the kids." 

Harry felt like someone had sat upon his chest. "Kids?" 

Hermione smiled softly. "Go to work. I'm not going to overwhelm you with too much today. I'll send an owl."

X

There was an icepick driving through the base of Harry's skull, right to the front of his forehead. At least that's what it felt like to Harry. Harry didn't have the energy to walk around to the front of the sofa; he crawled over the arm, flopping face first into a cushion, his feet still dangling over the arm.

He reached blindly for a pillow and covered his head with it, trying to drown out the day, the week. He couldn't even remember everything that happened, he only remembered feeling completely overwhelmed by demands to make decisions. He didn't even know where to start or what people were talking about half the time. He couldn't for the life of him reckon how in ten years he had become Head Auror. He couldn't imagine doing this job. He didn't even have to imagine, he knew he couldn't. 

"Has something happened?" Harry heard Snape's question despite the pillow over his head. 

"I hate work," Harry said, lifting the pillow and throwing it aside. 

Snape stood before him, arms crossed and brows raised. Harry thought maybe he hadn't heard him but Snape finally said, "You were the one who took the job." 

Harry sat up, looking hard at Snape. "Do you think I'm a good Auror? That I deserve the job I have?" 

"I wouldn't know if you were a good Auror or not. I've never worked with you," Snape replied with a dismissive shrug. "Are you lacking confidence because you don't know if you got the job on merit or because –" 

"Because?" Harry demanded when Snape didn't finish the sentence. Snape’s answer was thinned lips and a shrug. "You don't have an answer?" 

"I started to tell you what I thought and you didn't seem to like it." 

"You think I got the job because I'm Harry Potter." Harry glared up at him, doubt roiling in his gut. 

Snape only shrugged again. "I never said that."

"You didn't have to. Your shrug implied it." Harry crossed his arms, shrugging his shoulders, mocking Snape. 

Snape's eyes narrowed and he replied in a dry whisper. "Perhaps you're feeling over sensitive about this and that's why you're acting like an arse." 

"You're the arse. You're supposed to be – to be – my boyfriend or something and I can't even see why." Harry threw up his hands in frustration and began angrily pacing. "You're not supportive. You're not very nice. And I can't even tell that you love me. How is this possible?" 

Harry turned and saw Severus take a step back, his face white, and his eyes no longer glared at Harry, boring into him. He looked, down and away. 

"How indeed." Snape's voice was so quiet and ragged that Harry almost didn't catch what he had said. 

Oh Christ, Harry didn't think it was possible he could hurt Snape, but clearly he had. "I didn't mean to say –" 

Snape put up a hand and took another step back. He looked up at Harry, the hurt still in his eyes. "You've said enough." He turned on his on his heel, leaving the room. Harry didn't need the lack of a robe swirling behind him to know this man wasn't the Snape he knew. 

Later that night as Harry lay on the couch, rubbing his still pounding head – he didn't ask Snape for anything, he'd likely poison Harry given the chance – he realised, not only was Hermione going to be angry with him, but more importantly his future self. This was a person, this future Harry, who loved Snape... _Severus_. Who lived with him, who loved him, who shared his life with him. 

When Harry had envisioned the future, which he rarely did, it was so myopic to him till recently. He had thought: wife, kids. What was it about Severus that had made Harry change? 

He did find the Severus in this time attractive, Harry admitted to himself, but there was more to it than just that. Harry didn't think they could build five years on wanting to fuck. And Harry had hurt Severus, and Severus caring that deeply what Harry thought wasn’t something he would have ever considered. He also hadn't considered Severus had hurt him. He wanted someone to tell him he was a good Auror, someone to comfort him, he wanted that person to be Severus. 

Harry's head was no longer the only thing that hurt, his stomach, hurt, his chest hurt; he didn't like sleeping here on the couch while Severus was upstairs likely plotting Harry's death for the unlikely reason that Harry had hurt his feelings and not for being an annoying little shit.

This was all so very exhausting and confusing. Harry rolled over, clutching a pillow to his middle. Maybe Severus loved him enough to put him out of his misery and kill him in his sleep. 

*

He poured the treacle in a small steady stream over his porridge. He drew a swirly design then an X over the top of that. There, that looked like enough. He set the container down and saw Severus standing at the entrance to the kitchen studying Harry closely. 

Harry cleared his throat, his face a little warm at Severus catching him playing with his food. "Good morning," Harry said, mostly to his porridge.

"Good morning," Severus replied briskly and walked into the room. He tapped the cooker with his wand, igniting a smooth, even flame below the percolator. He let that do its work while he busied himself making toast. 

Harry ate slowly, watching Severus move easily around the kitchen. There was quiet elegance to him, the way he delicately placed two mugs on the counter, how he gripped the knife, smoothly spreading butter on his toast. Harry could see the tension in his shoulders though. He hadn't looked at Harry since he started the coffee. Severus kept his back turned. 

Harry was shocked to find that he felt bad about how upset Severus clearly was. He looked down at his porridge, dipping in his spoon for another bite. As he looked up, his eyes lingered for a moment on Severus's arse. Harry smiled to himself, thinking he needed to be better at this. Severus's arse had been a delightful surprise; maybe their life together was, too. 

Severus turned, looking at Harry and not until he said, "What is it?" did Harry realise he was still smiling. 

"Er...it's...you know," Harry replied and quickly shoved a spoonful of food in his mouth. 

With a quick wave of his wand, Severus sent a full cup of coffee sailing smoothly over to Harry, landing gently by his bowl. Severus picked up his plate and mug and came to stand across the counter from Harry. 

"This is pleasant," Severus said, after taking his first sip of coffee. Harry looked at his cup; he'd yet to try it. He reached for the handle and Severus added, "I don't mean the coffee, I mean this." He gestured from his chest to Harry's and back. "We haven't done this since before we went on holiday. I've missed it." 

Harry raised the cup to his lips, took a careful sip and replied, "Yeah, I like it too." 

Severus took a bite of his toast, chewed thoughtfully and upon swallowing said, "Do you know what else we haven't done since we got back?" 

"Slept in the same bed?" Harry replied, thinking his neck was beginning to ache from the nights spent on the couch. 

"You mean we haven't been intimate?" Severus asked. 

Harry's brow creased and he blinked at Severus. "Oh! You mean we haven't had sex." 

Severus paused in the act of drinking his coffee and gave Harry a flat look. "We haven't fucked. That better for you?" 

Harry laughed despite himself. He had never heard Severus used the word 'fuck' in that way, it was surprising and made Harry's spine tingle a bit. "Sorry," Harry added quickly as Severus's brows shot up. "I'm a little slow in the morning." 

"Not when we shower together. The moment our cocks touch you're almost done." 

A sudden want and desire coalesced in Harry, settling heavy in his balls and making his cock take distinct attention. Harry shifted uncomfortably on his seat, making sure to grip his spoon hard so he didn't reach down and touch himself. 

"It isn't about you," Harry said, marshalling his thoughts and his courage best he could, which meant staring into his coffee, not looking at Severus. "I have been feeling off –" 

"I can tell." 

"I think today I'm maybe better." Harry looked up slowly, meeting Severus's eyes. He reached his hand out, gently touching Severus's. A flick of a smile went across Severus's face before he leaned in and kissed Harry. 

Harry did what felt most natural; he leaned into the kiss, feeling Severus's mouth soft and warm against his. They both leaned back, smiling softly. 

"Sorry," Severus said, brushing Harry's lips with the pad of his thumb. "You've crumbs on your lips." 

"It's okay," Harry replied softly. 

Severus dropped his hand and straightened up. "You're going to be late," he said, his eyes flicking to his watch. 

"Right!" Harry said, jumping up from his stool. Harry waved his wand, Banishing his dishes to the sink. "Going in the field today. Hopefully I'm better at that." Harry smiled sheepishly at Severus and headed to the door. 

"Harry, you're a very good Auror," Severus said as Harry stepped out of the kitchen. Harry turned around, looking at him. "You've never traded on your name and you deserve everything you have." 

Harry felt his mouth open a little in shock but closed it smartly. "Thank you," he said and turned around, thinking he might make it through this yet.

X

Harry was dusty, smelled faintly of garbage, had a cut across his arm, an aching foot, and felt happier than he had since he arrived in this time. Turns out he was much better out of the office than in it, Harry could've guessed that. The day working on a case with a team of Aurors was certainly better than desk work, even with the injuries.

The kitchen was quiet, and Severus was no where to be seen when Harry got home, so he hobbled up to the shower, leaving his robes in the laundry on the way. The house was mostly dark and Harry only turned on the bathroom light to find his way into the shower. 

As the water ran over him, he heard Severus call out to him, "You're home?" 

"Yeah," Harry called back as he scrubbed his filthy nails. "Where were you?" 

"Downstairs. I can go to bed now that you're back," he replied and then Harry heard the bathroom door shut. 

That went well. Severus must be used to Harry being unaccountably late on occasion. 

Harry scrubbed his hair, then his body. His stomach growled despite his exhaustion. A sandwich would be nice, Harry thought, and then bed. Sleep would be good and tomorrow was Saturday, so he could sleep as long as he liked. 

Harry finished his shower and got out, rubbing himself dry. His head emerged from the folds of the towel and he saw folded clothes sitting on the counter. He smirked as he stepped over to them; it was a set of pyjamas. They matched and were something Harry couldn't imagine wearing and he laughed, thinking that was maybe part of the joke. 

Harry put aside the top and pulled the soft, red trousers on. He ran the towel across his chest and stomach one last time, making sure he was dry before leaving the bathroom. 

He slid on his glasses as he stepped into the bedroom and noticed the bed was turned down on Harry's side, even though he hadn't slept there at all. His gaze flicked to Severus, who was sitting on his own side of the bed reading what looked to be a very long and detailed book. He wasn't looking at Harry, his eyes staying on the page, although they weren't moving. Harry could see that the tips of his fingers were white. He was gripping the book as if it were a life preserver. 

Harry felt short of breath. His throat felt tight and dry. "What –" Harry tried to say, then cleared his throat. "What are you reading?" Harry asked. His voice was softer than he had intended, but hesitancy made it hard to speak. 

Severus closed the book over his fingers and then looked at the cover, frowning as if the title had eluded him completely. " _Lord of the Rings_. It's a Muggle book." 

"I know," Harry replied. Severus looked at him doubtfully. "Haven't read it,” Harry froze, watching Severus’ reaction. When Severus didn’t react, Harry said, “I recognised the title is all." 

He stepped slowly to the bed, sitting on the edge. "Any good?" Harry asked. 

Severus's shoulder twitched in sort of a shrug. "It'll do. I've read better. I usually don't like fiction, let alone fantasy."

Harry raised his brows, "Why read it?" 

Severus pressed his lips together and then he said, "The protagonist is resolutely heroic. Something about him interested me." He turned towards Harry, a smile creeping across his lips. 

"What?" Harry said with a laugh. "Are you talking about me?" 

"Am I?" A smile now danced in Severus's eyes. 

Harry reached out, shoving Severus's thigh. "I remind you of a Hobbit?" 

"I thought you hadn't read the book." Severus was openly amused now. 

"I haven't but I know what a Hobbit is." Harry tried to feign indignation but he couldn't, he was smiling now too. 

"Granted you're not Hobbit sized. It's more of a personality trait." 

"And who are you?" Harry asked. He snatched the book from Severus's hands and started flipping through it. "I bet you think you're the wizard, what's his name?" 

Severus snorted a laugh, "Not likely. That's almost insulting." Harry looked up and their eyes met. Severus's expression went blank and he swallowed hard. "I'm the Ranger." 

"Ranger?" Harry said, his voice tight again. 

"Wears all black, saves the Hobbit's arse." 

"Ha! You wish," Harry said, opening the book and thumbing through it. "Where? Show me." 

Severus reached out, gently covering Harry's hand with his own. Severus’s touch, his fingers, his hand, the warmth of his skin sent an unexpected thrill up Harry's spine. Harry looked up at Severus. 

"You're not going to take my word for it?" asked Severus. 

"I could." Harry leaned in toward Severus. 

Severus's hand slid up Harry's arm. "You should," he whispered as he leaned in, his lips brushing against Harry’s. 

Harry breathed sharply, leaning into the kiss. This one was different than the one this morning. There was need behind this kiss. 

Severus reached out his free hand and cupped Harry's jaw, pulling him closer. The kiss was soft, warm; it was generous. Severus kissed Harry with gentle lips and Harry felt an electric desperation to give Severus what he needed that surprised him and pushed him on. He turned, pushing harder into the kiss, flicking his tongue to touch Severus's, inviting Severus to take him. 

Harry felt the relief go through Severus's body, felt the change in his muscles, the tension releasing under Harry's touch. Severus cupped Harry's face in his beautiful hands, devouring him slowly with tongue and lips. As the kiss broke Harry pulled Severus in, hugging him tight. 

"Jesus, Harry," Severus whispered. Harry understood. He understood he wasn't the only one going through whatever this was. Severus was going through it too. 

"We're in love," Harry said, unable to stop the thought from becoming words on his lips. 

"I like to think so," Severus replied and pulled free from the embrace, only to push Harry back onto the pillows, kissing him again. 

His leg pressed between Harry's. Harry's cock pressed eagerly to Severus’s thigh as the kiss deepened. Harry felt Severus's cock grow hard against his hip, the intensely erotic feeling going straight to Harry's balls. 

Severus moved his lips from Harry's and slid down his body. "No!" Harry said, reaching for Severus, realising what he was going to do. Severus looked up at him, confused. "You don't –" Harry faltered. "You don't need to." 

Severus's eyes darkened. "No. I do," he said as he continued the slow slide down to Harry's cock. He lifted the pyjamas up over Harry's straining cock and slid them halfway down his legs. Harry could feel Severus's breath, hot and humid on the back of his cock. 

"Fuck," Harry groaned and thrust his hips up. "Jesus!" Harry cried out, finding Severus's mouth there to meet his thrust. 

Severus tightened his lips around the head of Harry's dick and Harry thrust again. Settling his hand on the back of Severus's head, he slid his fingers through the short silver and black strands. 

Severus groaned, the sound vibrating from Harry's cock through his bones. "Yes, like that," Harry said and Severus slid his mouth all the way to the base. Harry looked down, seeing only the crown of Severus's head as he sucked him to the root. "Fuck! Fuck!" Harry yelled, thrusting once, twice, and coming very hard down Severus's throat. 

He felt Severus swallowing around him and that only increased the feeling that he was spinning very fast. Severus released Harry’s cock and looked up at him with a thin smile. "You needed that," he said. 

"What do you need?" Harry said, pulling Severus back up towards him. 

They kissed again. Severus's tongue tasted salty. Knowing that was his come he tasted made a thrill rush through Harry and without thinking his hand was sliding under Severus's waistband. He wrapped his hand around Severus's cock. "Fucking, god," he murmured, feeling the weight of it, the heat of it, against his own skin. 

Harry had only ever done this on himself, only knew what he liked, but that didn't stop him. He wanted to bring Severus off. Harry began to stroke him and Severus pressed his face in the crook of Harry's neck. He murmured constantly as Harry ran his hand up and down. Harry only caught the occasional word, "Need you," "Fuck, like that," "Harry," "Fuck." 

Harry stroked faster. Feeling that Severus was close, he allowed his hand to go lower, stroking against Severus's balls which felt tight under his finger tips, and he then stroked back up firmly and quickly. Severus cried out, thrusting hard into Harry's fist as he came and came all over Harry's hand, all over his pyjamas, everywhere. 

Harry cried out too, the power of getting Severus off a thrill in itself. 

Harry wrapped one arm around Severus, holding him close, keeping him turned in towards him. They both lay there panting very fast. After a few minutes, Harry lifted his head, looked down, and then let his head fall back with a derisive laugh. 

"What?" Severus asked against Harry's neck. 

"I'm getting hard again," Harry replied. 

Severus lifted his head, looking down at Harry's semi-interested cock. Severus hand slid down Harry's hip, to his inner thigh, just shy of touching his balls. "Want me to eat your arse?" Severus offered and Harry's hand shot out, stopping Severus's. 

"Can we...er...can we maybe talk, or I don't know –" Harry asked, almost begging. "I haven't eaten since breakfast and I don't know if I should eat or just pass out." 

Severus shrugged, and sighed contentedly. “Whatever you need,” he said as he tucked himself back up against Harry's side, letting his arm casually drape across Harry's middle. 

"Maybe a shower and sandwich?" Harry asked. 

"I'm not showering alone again," Severus said. "Even if it's only a quick rinse." 

"All right," Harry said, releasing Severus to roll out of bed. He felt self-conscious of his bottoms around his knees and his arse in Severus's face. He kicked the trousers away, resisting the urge to pull them up, certain that this Harry had no such modesty. He heard Severus get out of bed beside him and he walked around the bed, past Harry to the bathroom. Harry's cock had flagged, finally, but seeing Severus's naked arse, how it moved and flexed, his cock took distinct interest. 

"I changed my mind," Harry said, rushing to Severus and pressing his body down the length of Severus's back. Rolling his hips to Severus's arse. 

"Pity," Severus said lightly and gripped Harry's wrist, holding him in place as he pulled him into the shower. 

Harry felt wild with desire. Severus turned to face him under the spray and Harry pushed back against him, thrusting their cocks together. Severus pushed Harry's chest back slightly as he reached between them and took hold of both cocks in his hand. 

"Yes, like that," Harry said, gripping Severus's hips and watching him stroke them off. Severus moved his hand in motion with his smooth thrusts, squeezing the heads of their cocks together before stroking the shafts. He stroked faster and harder. 

"Come again, Harry," Severus said. "Come all over my cock. I want your come on me." 

Harry groaned and thrust faster, his hands sliding, unable to get a grip on Severus's wet skin. "Yes!" Harry cried out as his orgasm burst from him. He felt Severus still stroking him, knew Severus was still talking to him but Harry’s mind was completely blank. All he could think was that he wanted to feel Severus come in his hand again. 

Harry reached between them, his hand tangling with Severus's as Harry's come slicked their path and he brought Severus to completion. 

Harry's head was spinning and he slumped against Severus, trapping him against the wall. "Can you move?" Severus said, pushing Harry. "You're heavier than you think." 

"Sorry," Harry said, shaking his head and stepping more directly under the water. 

"Don't apologise," Severus said, straightening up. "Best shower I've had all week." He leaned in, kissing Harry hard. 

*

Harry slid into bed, feeling muscles and bones melt in a way he couldn't ever remember happening. He had been a complete idiot, spending almost an entire week sleeping on a sofa. His bed was rather comfortable. Harry cracked open one eye and looked at the blurry figure next to him. The person he shared the bed with wasn't so bad either. 

Harry's cock stirred slightly at that thought but he forcibly told himself 'no.' He couldn't spend every moment trying to get Severus to touch his cock. Five years in, that might raise Severus's suspicions and it wasn't going to make Harry want to go back, which he probably needed to focus on more than getting off. 

Harry closed his eyes, swallowing hard at the pit that was suddenly in his stomach. Severus was in love with him and Harry was here in bed with him, pretending to be someone he wasn't. If someone had done that to Harry, Harry would be furious. 

"Are you asleep?" Harry whispered very quietly, hoping that Severus was. 

"Why?" Severus replied, not moving at all. "Are you going to tell me something like you have to work all weekend?" 

"No," Harry said quickly. "I hope I don't have to work all weekend. That'd be awful." 

"You suddenly hate your job?" 

Harry bit his lip and replied carefully, "I don't understand my job enough to hate it." 

"Is this it? You're finally going to tell me what's been wrong with you?" 

Harry felt at a loss for words. Hermione’s admonitions ran through his head, but here it was. Severus knew something was wrong and now Harry had let him in enough that maybe he _had_ to trust him. 

Severus rolled onto his side, facing Harry. "I've been wondering if you were Confunded or perhaps concussed. I don't think you've been Imperiused because you're not that odd. I've given you every antidote I can think of that’s safe with me not knowing what else you’ve been given. After we argued yesterday, I realised you must have cocked up somehow and were waiting to tell me." 

"Why would I wait to tell you?" Harry said, curious for more details about Harry the adult and their relationship now. 

"Don't want me to be angry." 

"I don't want you to be hurt." 

Severus reached and gripped Harry's arm. "Tell me, " he said in a whisper. "What I'm imagining is worse than anything you’ll tell me. I can help if you tell me."

And so Harry told him. Harry simultaneously felt the burden of his secret lift and the weight of what this would mean for Severus collapsed in on him. Severus certainly would be able to help and, at the same time, he was sure to feel betrayed that Harry was only telling him now. 

Harry said all he had to say and Severus sat up in bed, his back to Harry. He pulled his knees close to his chest as if to insulate himself. He was quiet for a very long time. Harry kept as still and quiet as he could, barely breathing. 

"Are you aware of wish magic?" Severus asked after several long minutes. 

"Er...yeah. Hermione told me about it." 

Severus snorted a humourless laugh. "Of course you told Ms Granger before you told me." 

"Mrs Weasley," Harry corrected. 

"I know. I was at their wedding. Were you?" Severus said, looking over his shoulder at Harry accusingly. 

Harry bristled under the glare. "Are you testing me to see if I'm lying?" 

"No. I can tell when you're lying. I know you that well." 

"It has nothing to do with knowing me well. You've always known when I was lying." 

"You've always been a very bad liar." 

A laugh burst from Harry's lips. "And you're a good liar, I suppose." 

"I believe even your seventeen-year-old self knows I'm the best." 

"Dumbledore might have been better," said Harry quietly. 

Severus's spine stiffened and he replied, "He probably was. I need a drink." He threw back the covers and got out of bed. 

"It's almost midnight," said Harry in protest. 

Severus turned in the doorway, looking at him. "Since you're new to adulthood I'll tell you that this is one of its benefits. I can have a drink whenever I bloody well want." 

Harry lay back on his pillow. He had to let Severus go, had to let him have space. He'd let Severus come to him.

Harry fell into an uneasy sleep waking sometime in the early hours of the morning. Severus still wasn't back in bed. 

Harry slid out of bed and walked as quietly as he could down the stairs. Severus was on the sofa, legs extended onto an ottoman, head resting against the back of the sofa. There was half a bottle of whisky by his ankles and a glass that looked like he hadn't even taken a drink out of it. 

His eyes fluttered opened as Harry’s shadow fell across his face. "You have to go back," he said, his voice low and raspy. 

"I know," Harry replied. 

"I'll help you." 

"Okay."

X

Going downstairs was something Harry was unsure about. He’d never been and he had no idea if he would or if he was even allowed? He stood teetering on the top step. Severus had disappeared down there hours ago and Harry was beginning to wonder if he'd ever come up. Harry thought about grabbing a cup of tea and taking that down there as an excuse. Severus would see right through that.

"It is my house," Harry said to himself, finally stepping down the stairs. 

The bottom floor was somewhat of a revelation to Harry. He had expected, he wasn't sure what, but it wasn’t this. The room was black and lined with shelves – that was expected – but one side was all windows and French doors that opened into a very well-kept garden. The room was more sanctuary than cave. 

Severus sat at the wood-topped work table, on a stool that looked the match to the one Harry sat on when he ate breakfast. He was hunched over a pile of books, resting his chin in one hand, his brow creased. 

Harry stepped into the room and Severus turned to look him. 

"I'm not interrupting you?" 

Severus straightened up from the table and stretched. "Usually you at least bring a cup of tea." 

Harry chortled and replied, "I was thinking that but talked myself out of it." 

"You're more you when you go with your instincts."

Harry walked over to the table, sat lightly at the edge, and crossed his arms, looking down at Severus. "How could you tell something was off – about me, I mean?" he asked. 

Severus crossed his own arms and sat very straight and still. He had his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his skin complemented by the creamy-yellow shirt. "I knew you were different the moment you walked in. Remember?" 

Harry nodded slowly. Yeah, he remembered. 

"It's maybe why I argued with you. You seemed more yourself when you were angry. You're not careful when we're in a row."

"We've always managed to argue a lot," said Harry. 

Severus made an odd face then said, "Not in recent years. We've managed to get along nicely." 

"No fighting?"

Severus shook his head and looked up at Harry with a half-smile. "We've always managed that part well. We’re good at it, but it's far more rare than in the time you know." Harry felt his back tingle at the way Severus was looking at him. He wanted to kiss him, but he really shouldn't. Now that Severus knew Harry was seventeen, he might feel differently about Harry's interest in his cock. 

"So," Harry said, looking for a way to change the subject. He looked around for some idea of what to say, his eyes falling on the books. "Found anything?" 

Severus flicked his hand dismissively. "Nothing helpful. It seems no one has ever wished themselves to a different time. You had to be different, didn't you?"

"I try." Harry nudged Severus's leg with his and exhaled when Severus pressed into the touch. 

"What was the date when you left?" Severus asked, leaning forward, throwing aside a book and reaching for another. 

"Not sure. It was a bit after the war. It's still May." 

"Was I still gone?" Severus asked, thumbing through pages, looking for something. Harry's eyes went to Severus's throat and the scars visible there. He clenched his fist to keep from touching them. 

"Yeah," Harry said, his voice sounding thick. "How are you not dead?" 

Severus looked up, clearly amused. "Disappointed?" 

"No! Not at all. I only –" 

"Slughorn found me." 

"Slughorn saved your life?" 

Severus gave a shrug. "If you want to look at it that way. Perhaps he came looking for something else and stumbled upon me, barely breathing. I try not to ask too many questions about his motives. I am alive because he found me." 

Harry chuckled. "Leave it to you to look at it in that way." 

"I can only be the man you see before you." Severus smirked, not a cold calculated smirk, but a smirk of self-amusement. 

"I like the man before me," Harry said, looking hard at Severus, waiting for him to meet his gaze. Severus did look at him and the moment that his eyes, full of laughter, met Harry's, Harry looked sharply away. "Sorry, I shouldn't –" 

"Stop. Stop thinking about what you should and shouldn't do. Be you." 

"But I shouldn't be looking at you like that. Or talking to you like that. Or wanting to kiss you." 

"Didn't stop you last night," Severus pointed out. 

"You didn't know last night," Harry replied, still not looking at Severus. 

"You'll only seduce me if you're lying to me?" 

"I didn’t intend to – any of it,” said Harry desperately. “I couldn’t tell you and even if I could, I didn’t know how. And then, after – I didn't want to hurt you." 

"I know," Severus said very quietly, putting a hand on Harry's knee to keep him quiet. "You not wanting to hurt me is exactly who you are. So I see no difference in you kissing me. You're still you." 

Harry couldn't help but smile. "You're very clever." 

"I've been told," replied Severus as he stood from his chair, pressing his body to Harry's and pulling him in for a kiss. The kiss was soft and almost chaste, with only a quick flick of Severus's tongue before he pulled away. 

"In here." Severus reached up, touching Harry's temple. Then moved his hand to Harry's chest, "and in here, you are still you. And that person belongs to me." Harry leaned forward, kissing Severus again. 

It was a much deeper kiss this time. Harry's lower back pressed hard against the table. One hand twisted in Severus's shirt while the other held his arm. Severus's mouth opened to Harry's tongue, pulling it in. Harry groaned, thrilling at the ability to feel Severus in this way, feel the heat of his lips, the strong, slick press of his tongue. It urged Harry on. He had wasted so much of their time together _not_ doing this and he wasn't wasting time any more. 

Severus's hips began grinding against Harry's. Harry spread his legs, letting Severus push harder. They rutted against each other desperately, Severus's mouth dropping to Harry's neck, licking and biting him there. 

"Christ," Harry cried out, bucking harder. Severus's hands were tangled in his hair, holding Harry there as he continued to drag his teeth across Harry's neck. "Fuck," Harry ground out. "I'm gonna come." 

Severus stopped rolling his hips but didn't move his mouth from Harry's neck. "You don't want to?" 

"Jesus, yes, I want to," Harry replied. "Not like this." 

"Then what?" Severus asked and he leaned back so he could look at Harry. 

"I want –" Harry faltered. The list of all the things he wanted was very long. He settled on the simplest one. "I want to see your cock again." 

Severus smirked as he took a step back from Harry. His soft grey trousers were quite tented and he gestured down at them as if to say, 'have at it'. 

Harry undid the top button with a flick. He briefly considered teasing Severus but that would be torture for Harry. He was desperate to see it, feel it, for himself. He pulled the zipper down and pushed his hand into Severus's pants, gripping his cock. 

"Jesus," Severus groaned, his head collapsing onto Harry's shoulder. 

Harry stroked him slowly up and down; feeling the length, feeling the silky soft skin, letting the tips of his fingers brush against Severus’s balls; feeling the way the soft hairs tickled the sides of his hand. 

"Tell me how it feels for you," Severus said against Harry's skin. 

"Amazing," Harry replied. "You're so hard. God, I love wrapping my hand around you, love stroking you." 

Harry paused for a moment and gripped Severus's pants and trousers with his free hand, pulling them down far enough so he could see Severus's cock. 

"God," Harry murmured as Severus thrust up into his hand. Harry pulled back the foreskin, rubbing his thumb across the tip, smearing the pre-come that had gathered there. He brought his thumb to his mouth; he wanted to know how it tasted.

Severus made a sound in protest at the loss of Harry's hand and Harry quickly returned it. "What do you want me to do?" Harry asked as he explored every inch of Severus's dick. 

"I want you to fuck me with your mouth," Severus said, looking down, watching Harry's hand move over him. Before this moment Harry would have considered that something he was wholly unprepared to do but the moment the words left Severus's lips, Harry wanted to give it to him. 

He pushed Severus down onto the stool and knelt between Severus's legs, pulling his clothes away. Severus spread his legs wide and Harry's shoulders pressed to the inside of his thighs. Harry held Severus's cock in hand and positioned his mouth just above it. "Like this?" Harry said, looking up and licking his lips. 

"Yeah," Severus said, resting a hand lightly on the back of Harry's head. 

Harry opened his mouth wide and wrapped his lips around Severus's cock and slowly moved his mouth lower and lower. Harry didn't know if he was very good at it, wasn't even trying to be very good at it, he only did what felt good to him. He took Severus as deep as he could, licking his tongue along the back of his shaft, moving his lips steadily up and down. 

He put one hand to Severus's bollocks, gently playing with them, while the other gripped Severus's arse, feeling the roll of his hips under his hand. Severus's hand on Harry's head began to press harder and his hips snapped more. Harry thrilled at it. He wanted to keep going, wanted to suck Severus long and hard. Severus's balls grew very tight in Harry's hand and then his cock pulsed in Harry's mouth and he was crying out. Harry didn't stop. He kept moving his mouth on Severus as he swallowed the come that filled his mouth. 

Harry gave one last pass with his lips and a swirl of his tongue around the tip before releasing Severus from his mouth. 

Harry stood, leaning down and kissing Severus again. Severus rose slowly from his seat, reaching for the front of Harry's jeans. 

"Your turn," Severus said, pulling open the first button. 

"I don't even know – I –" Harry stammered, at a complete loss for the words to say what he needed. 

"But I know." Severus pulled open Harry's flies and pushed his jeans and pants roughly down. 

"What do you know?" Harry asked, trying to angle his cock for Severus to touch it. 

Severus backed Harry into the table and said, with a wicked smile, "What you want." 

A thrill went through Harry so intense he was amazed he didn't come on the spot. 

"Up," Severus commanded, pushing Harry up and onto the table. 

Severus stood between Harry's knees, kissing him lightly. He placed a hand in the centre of Harry’s chest and pushed until was lying back. "Do you know what you want?" Severus asked, leaning over him. Harry touched Severus, his hand slowly coasting up Severus's shirt. 

Harry didn't have time to answer, as Severus said, "I know you want me to touch your nipple like this." Severus's hand passed lightly over Harry's left nipple, before coming back and toying with it with his thumb, making pleasure course through Harry. Harry knew he liked that. The few times someone's hand had slid across his chest while they kissed made his cock throb. Severus now pinched it, making Harry moan and roll his hips. 

Severus rucked up Harry's shirt and circled Harry's nipple with the tip of his tongue. "Do you know what else you want?" Severus asked, lifting his head. 

"More of that," Harry said, trying to reach for Severus's head. 

"No, I think you want me to go lower." Severus's hand coasted down Harry's belly, fingers tickling through the hair there. Harry's cock pulsed and arched as if trying desperately to get Severus to touch it. 

"You want me to do this." Severus reached the inside of Harry's thigh and pushed his legs further apart. The touch made gooseflesh rise everywhere on Harry. 

"You want this," Severus said and lowered his head to Harry's cock. Licking a long path up the back of it. Harry moaned and Snape lifted his head long enough to say, "You also want this." He lowered his mouth again, this time to Harry's balls. He sucked lightly on one, then the other, and then worked his mouth and tongue over both. 

"Yeah," Harry said, reaching for his cock, intent on bringing himself off while Severus licked his body. 

"Don't do that," Severus said, putting his hand on top of Harry’s. He looked up Harry's body, meeting his eyes. "You'll want what's next." He stroked one finger behind Harry's balls, down and suddenly in. 

"Fuck," Harry cried out, not sure if he should pull away or push back onto Severus’s finger. 

Severus dropped his head and brought Harry's cock to his mouth his free hand. He enveloped Harry with the wet heat of his mouth, moving slowly up and down in time with the finger moving in Harry's arse. He pulled his finger almost out and slid it back in, adding another. Harry's arse pulsed around it. He shouted a curse, thrusting up into Severus's mouth. 

Severus sucked harder, his cheeks hollowing around Harry’s cock. His fingers began to scissor, working steadily in and out. 

"See?" Severus said, lifting his head. "I know." 

Harry rolled against Severus's hand, "More," Harry begged. Severus pushed a third into Harry. Harry cried out. 

"See your come all over your stomach," Severus said, eyes flicking to Harry's cock which was leaking freely. "I can make you come like this." 

"Please," Harry whispered. "Your mouth." He reached for Severus's face, his fingers tangling in his hair. 

"I know. That's what you like." Severus put his mouth on Harry's cock again and brought him off hard and fast. Harry cried out as his hips snapped and he came down Severus's throat. His arse pulsing around Severus's fingers. 

He collapsed onto the table as Severus gently released him. 

Harry's legs dangled over the edge of the table. He slowly rolled his body up to a seated position. Severus was buttoning up his trousers, looking at Harry from under lowered eyes. 

"That cup of tea now?" Harry said, half as a joke. 

Severus smiled gratefully at Harry and stroked a hand down his arm. "Upstairs then. This will wait."

X

Harry finally understood what it meant to have a spring in his step. He strode into work Monday, thinking all was right with the world. There was nothing a weekend of kissing Severus and getting off together wouldn't solve. Harry was already hoping he could leave early and get back home. He hadn’t had time to fully consider what it meant that he now thought of that house as ‘home’ when the door banged back open and Hermione came storming in.

"Was there some sort of fountain in the corridor?" she asked briskly. 

"What?" Harry asked. 

"At Hogwarts, was there a fountain. When you wished yourself here." 

"Shhhh!" Harry hissed, striding past Hermione to close the door. "Someone will hear you." 

"Harry, was there a fountain?" Hermione demanded. 

Harry thought back to that night. It was hard, the memories a little foggy. Severus kept popping up in his mind. "No. No fountain." 

"We'll need to double check that."

"Why would you come in here asking me if there was a fountain if you were going to go check anyway? You went to school there too. You know there are no fountains."

"But the castle was severely damaged –" 

"I know. I was there last week. I had to take a different way back from the owlery. I told you that." Harry glared at Hermione in annoyance. She was doing a very good job of taking the shine off of Harry's morning. 

"You have to go have a look around." 

"Fine. I'll go later," Harry replied. _Later_ would need to be some time after he saw Severus again. 

"No, Harry. You have to go now," Hermione replied. 

"Why now? I've a job, things to do." Harry pointed to the giant pile of files on his desk. 

"No," Hermione said, stepping closer to Harry. "Your job right now is to get back." 

"I will get back, eventually, but for now I should do regular work. The future me isn't going to appreciate coming back to a load of shit to do. " Harry sat down stubbornly behind his desk. 

Hermione stared at him through narrowed eyes. "What have you done?" 

"I haven't done anything," Harry replied.. 

"You're making a face and you won't look at me. What have you done?" 

Harry thought about Severus telling him he was a bad liar; he couldn't help but smile. "Nothing." Harry kept the answer short and looked away, thinking it would help. 

Hermione stepped closer to Harry’s desk and laid her hands flat on the top. "What did you do this weekend, Harry?" 

Harry looked up, perplexed. "Why are you asking me about my weekend? I thought I was supposed to find my way back." 

"Did you spend time with Severus?" 

"Of course. We live together." Harry shuffled his feet slightly. He was trying not to think too much about Severus and their weekend together. 

"Did you tell him anything?"

"What do you mean?" 

"Suddenly staying doesn't sound so bad?" Hermione asked. 

"I was thinking more along the lines of it not feeling so bad." 

Hermione's voice dropped to a whisper as she asked, "Have you been sleeping together?" 

"Er...I was trying to act normal and I think that's normal for us." 

Hermione's eyes closed slowly and she breathed very hard through her nose. Harry kept quiet. He was already in enough trouble. "Did you tell him?" Hermione said through clenched teeth. 

"No!" Harry burst. "He figured it out on his own." 

Hermione opened her eyes, giving Harry a very flat look. "He figured out that the you from ten years ago somehow managed to end up here as the you from now?"

Harry shrugged, "Not exactly that. He thought I'd been Confunded or something else." 

"But you told him." 

"He's a very smart man. He would've figured it out," Harry replied defensively. 

"I know he is and that's why I told you not to tell him! You have to get back. You can't fuck around with your life here. You can't play with any sort of magic like this. It can go horribly wrong. You have to put everything right or you could screw up a lot more than some stupid Auror report!" Hermione's hair was on end and she looked like she was restraining herself from strangling Harry. 

"I can't believe you said 'fuck' to me. I've never heard you swear like that." 

Hermione gave a reluctant laugh and said, "Maybe when you get back you can teach the younger me it helps to be expressive every now and again." 

"Can I really fuck things up more than I already have?" Harry asked his throat dry. 

"Yes. Maybe. It's precarious." 

"I still have this job to do." Harry pointed at all his files again. 

Hermione rolled her eyes and walked over to the door in a huff, opened it and stuck her head out. "Daphne, clear Harry's schedule for the day. He's got something else to work on." Hermione shut the door and turned back to Harry. "There. Why are you looking at me like that?" 

"If I'd known it was that easy to get out of work, I wouldn't have come in last week." 

"You can't skive off work to cuddle with Severus all day." 

"All I'm saying is, I'm beginning to understand why we're together." Harry grinned at Hermione, earning him another glare. 

"Would you like it if I told you what it was like for Ron and me? Make jokes like that?" 

Harry felt a little sick and winced at the thought. "Merlin, please don't." 

"Now you understand. Go to Hogwarts and then you go home and send me an owl before you get distracted with your boyfriend."

X

"I hope you didn't get sacked," Severus said as Harry walked in the door.

Harry rolled his eyes, "Haven't even been at work." 

"Discovered hiding out in a pub?" 

"Hermione made me go to Hogwarts and have a poke around." 

"Did you find a magical fountain and toss in a coin to wish yourself back?" Severus said lightly and Harry chortled. 

Harry reached for Severus's waist, pulling him closer. "Wasn't about to do that," he said as he brought their lips together. The kiss was brief and Severus stepped back, his eyes shining. 

"Don't do that. I've a meeting." 

"A meeting?" Harry's brow creased. "You have a job?" 

"Of course I have a job. What did you think I did? Brewed potions all day?"

Harry shrugged, "Reckoned. I didn't give it much thought. What is it you do?" 

"I'm a consultant," Severus replied. 

"Huh," Harry said with another shrug. "Do we have anything to eat? I'm famished." 

Harry walked to the kitchen and Severus turned to follow him. Harry could hear him laughing quietly behind him. 

"What's funny?" Harry said, grabbing an apple from the bowl on the counter. 

"You're as interested in my profession as you normally are." Severus gave Harry a look he'd got used to over the past few days: tolerant exasperation. 

"Do you think me being an Auror is interesting?" asked Harry. 

"Not particularly." 

"We're even then." 

Severus pressed his lips together and he said, "You didn't find anything at Hogwarts?" 

Harry gave a noncommittal shake of his head as he took a bite of the apple. He swallowed and added, "Had no idea what the hell I was looking for anyway. I came back here thinking my map should be here. Where do I keep my stuff?" 

"Your stuff?" Severus asked, a brow arching. "This house is full of your stuff." He picked up the stool Harry usually sat on. "This is your stuff." Then he reached and picked up a stack of mail, "Also your stuff." He gestured expansively around the room, "All your stuff. Except for the Ginsu knives, those are mine." 

Harry looked at Severus but didn't say anything. He chewed his bite of apple slowly, and finally replied, "You're very funny. That's our stuff, I assume. I meant my books, or broom, photo album, things like that." 

"In your study, upstairs." 

"I have a study?" Harry perked up at this. 

"What did you think was on the third floor?" 

"Don't know. Other bedrooms and stuff. Can you show me or do you have to go?" 

"I think you can find it on your own but I'll show you." 

The room was large and had windows on one end like Severus's garden level room did. That’s where the similarity ended. It looked cosy despite its size. It was light from all the windows but had thick, dark wooden beams running across the ceiling. There was a very comfy looking sofa, fireplace, and shaggy carpet. 

"No books?" Harry asked. "I thought it was a study." 

"It is _your_ study," Severus replied dryly. Harry shot him a look and Severus gave a small grin. "They're over there." Severus pointed to the wall on the other side from the door. 

"Right. Whoa!" Harry said, turning back. "Is that the telly?" Harry walked up to the smooth black screen mounted on the wall. 

"Yes, that's yours as well. Don't get distracted. Your stuff is over there." Severus pointed at a little nook with a bank of windows that faced the street. Underneath them sat Harry's school trunk. Warmth crept up in Harry's chest. It was like seeing an old friend. 

He walked over to the chest and crouched, touching it softly, feeling the brass lock, the smooth rounded edges. He couldn't believe he’d kept it, but was grateful he had. He lifted the latch and pushed the lid open. The scent of parchment and ink, damp wool, and muddy trainers, fire smoke, and laundered sheets surrounded him. It smelled like Hogwarts, like his room at Hogwarts. It was like going home. 

"Did you find what you needed?" Severus said, bringing Harry back to this here and now. 

Harry blinked hard, keeping any tears back. He ached for the comfort of that room, the comfort and simplicity of that space. "Er...right," Harry said, rustling around in the trunk for the sake of distraction. He stopped and took out his wand " _Accio_ map," he said. From under a pile of old Quidditch robes flew the folded yellow parchment he needed. 

Harry caught it easily and stood up. "Found it," he said, looking over his shoulder at Severus. He didn't know if Severus knew how it worked. He didn't imagine he'd keep something silly like this from Severus. He’d maybe tease him with it a bit but he wouldn’t refuse to tell him if he really wanted to know. 

Harry touched the parchment with his wand and said as quietly as he could, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." Harry turned to Severus, waving the map which had sprung to life, "I was thinking I could maybe retrace my steps this way. Instead of wandering around like an idiot." 

"Good idea. Show me."

They sat on the couch – which was as squashy as Harry had hoped it would be – with the map on a cushion between them. 

"You started in the owlery," Severus said, pointing to the tower which had been repaired since Harry had last seen it. "Then did you go back the normal way?" 

"No," Harry said. "I couldn't. It was too damaged." 

"Right, so where did you go?" 

Harry cocked his head to one side, squinting at the map, trying to recall. He'd been so upset, it was hard to remember. 

"I had to go this way, away from the grounds. There was less damage on that side," Harry said, pointing at the top of the castle. 

"I walked here," Harry said, tracing a hand along a corridor. "And I took this passageway to this corridor because of the fire damage there." 

"What'd you do there?" Severus was leaning down, studying the map hard. Harry could see his salt and pepper hair so close. He could imagine the soft feel of the short strands between his fingers. 

"I...er...I had to go up." 

"Up?" Severus looked up at Harry, their faces almost inches apart. Harry liked looking into Severus’s deep dark eyes, liked the lines around them, the shadow of dark hair down his jaw. "You went up to go back down again?" 

"Had to. The passage below was caved in for four floors," Harry said, looking back down at the map. He traced his finger over classrooms bursting with names of students he didn't recognise, and past Peeves whom, of course, he did. "Then I went back down here, to get into Gryffindor tower." 

"And where did you speak to the ghost?" 

"Nick? Somewhere in here. There were no windows or torches. I had to use my wand to light the way." 

"Right," Severus said, looking at his watch. "I should go. I can't be late." 

"You've all ready said you can't be late. You must be late by now." 

"No, I was leaving early to run an errand. You distracted me. I'll do it later."

Harry looked at Severus in his dark trousers, his crisp shirt, and his robes which weren't done up just yet. He looked long and lean. Harry hooked a finger in a belt loop, tugging lightly on it. "Are you sure you don't have time to stay?" 

"I'm sure." Severus pulled Harry's hand away from his belt loop but kept hold of it. He leaned down and kissed Harry deeply. Harry moaned, opening his mouth to Severus. Then moaned again in disappointment as Severus stood up straight. 

"I'll be back later. Maybe around six. What are you going to do?" 

Harry looked around the room and spotted the remote to the telly. "Going to have a try at this." The remote was black and said "TiVo" in a rainbow of letters at the top. 

"You enjoy that," Severus said, striding from the room. "If you figure out how to watch your recorded shows keep it to _East Enders_." 

" _East Enders_?" Harry said in disgust. 

"I don't understand the trash you watch any more than you do. You'll never see my cock again if you watch _Strictly Come Dancing_ without me." 

"How will you know if I do?" Harry said, clicking the telly on. 

"I'll know," Severus said severely and turned, leaving for his meeting.

X

Harry spent the next two days doing anything he could do to avoid Hermione and doing everything he could do to get into Severus's trousers.

"Do you really need it every day after work?" 

"Seems you're the one getting it," Harry said, pausing from running his tongue across Severus's navel as he continued to undo his flies. 

Severus started to speak again but the words were lost the moment Harry took his cock into his mouth. 

He said plenty of filthy things a few minutes later as he came. 

Harry stood from where he knelt in front of Severus and smirked as he wiped his mouth. "You were complaining about something?" 

"Of course I wasn't," Severus said, doing up his trousers. "Are you all right?" he asked his eyes going over Harry's open trousers. 

"Yeah." Harry tucked himself back into his trousers but didn't do them up. He wanted to get out of his uniform anyway. "I always like your hand down my pants after work." 

"Because I know that's what you need after work." Severus had pulled out his wand and had Summoned a stack of menus. "Don't know what your excuse will be tomorrow," he said as he sorted through the pile. "Thai okay?" he said, pulling out an orange, trifold piece of paper. 

"Yeah. And why can't we do it when I get home tomorrow? Where will you be?" 

"You don't have work tomorrow. We're going to our cottage tomorrow." 

"Our cottage? We have a cottage?" Harry said, trying to imagine he was the sort of person who had a cottage. He liked that idea, a place to escape to. Though he didn't mind it here so much, he thought, enjoying watching Severus as he concentrated on the menu. 

"Yes," Severus said, looking up at him. "It's on the Isle of Wight. We go there about this time every year to open it up. Then on the weekends in the summer and a couple weeks in August." 

"Good!" Harry said, smiling broadly. "Means a four day weekend for me." 

"Wait till I put you to work ridding the chimney of anything that's taken up residence over the winter. You'll wish you were back at the Ministry." Harry seriously doubted that but was trying to complain less about his job. "Get your mobile. You have to call and order dinner." 

"Why can't you call and order?" 

"I don't have a mobile phone and this is a Muggle place." 

"You don't have one?" Harry began patting his pockets, looking for the slick, little box that he was told was his mobile. 

"I'm a wizard. Why would I need a mobile?" 

"I'm a wizard and I have one," Harry pointed out, pressing the little green square with the image of a phone on it. 

"One of the reasons I keep you around," Severus said, handing Harry the menu. "I'll have the drunken noodles with pork." 

*

"The cottage," Severus said, still gripping Harry's hand from their Apparition, "is at Thirteen Whitwell Way." 

Harry looked at him, confused. "Is it under a Fidelius Charm?" 

"Yes, it is. Well, it was. After the war I stayed here because of all the Death Eater hysteria, had to find a quiet place." 

"But you're innocent," Harry said, confused. 

Severus gave Harry a look. "I know and you know. But names and trials don't happen over night. It's not anything to worry about. You'll see when you get back." 

They turned down a gravel path that passed for a lane. Harry could smell the ocean and hear it getting louder the farther they walked down the path. The cool wind whipped their hair and it felt invigorating. They passed only a couple of cottages on the way to theirs. It was set up against a green hill, surrounded by old rock walls, and fences woven with sticks. The cottage itself was made of old lichen-covered stones, with a low slung roof. Harry didn't think he'd be wanting to go back to Hogwarts or to the Ministry anytime soon. 

"It was a blacksmith's shop two hundred years ago," Severus said. He pointed to an old stone oven, half-buried under the hill. "That was the forge." He pointed in another direction to a trail that was so faint it looked as if only deer had used it in recent years. "That way goes down to the ocean. We can go for a walk later." 

"Maybe at sunset," Harry suggested. 

"If you think I'm fucking you on the beach in this weather, you've got another thing coming. Not exposing my arse to this wind." The tips of Severus's nose and ears were pink from the cold and he pulled his cloak tighter. "Come on, let's get you started on that chimney and I'll start a fire." 

*

Harry slumped in a chair, staring up at the shadows on the ceiling, wondering if he was drunk. He had shared a whisky with Severus when they went for a walk before dinner, and this was only his third beer. He felt much more pissed than that amount of alcohol warranted. Perhaps he was tired from working on the cottage all day. There had been a colony of double-ended newts that had infested the chimney that had been hell to remove. At one point Harry innocently suggested burning them out to which Severus told him sternly, "We are not exterminating them." 

They had left all the windows shuttered. A storm was supposed to pass in the night; they'd open them tomorrow. The cottage had a low-beamed ceiling like Harry's study and he thought this is likely where he got that inspiration. He could tell they were very happy here. Severus sat on the couch reading his book while Harry tended the fire and dozed in a chair. 

"Why don't we live here all the time?" Harry asked. 

"It's bloody cold in the winter." Severus didn't even look up from his book when he replied. 

"It's cold everywhere in the winter," Harry pointed out. "We should live here all the time." 

"Here wouldn't be so special if we were here all the time," Severus said, giving Harry the briefest glance and then looking back at his book. 

"How'd we end up living where we live?" Harry asked. Severus had been very careful not to give Harry too much information. He thought it was worth a try anyway. 

"You purchased the house in Battersea, not me." 

"Why'd I buy a house in Battersea? What made me go there?" Harry could not imagine what had made him pick that place, as nice as it was. He’d figured he'd maybe live at Grimmauld Place, or get a small flat. 

"I am not answering the questions about where your mind was when you bought that house." Severus closed the book and kept his finger in his page and looked at Harry. "You bought the house but it is ours and I'm not moving here because you suddenly think it's a good idea." 

Harry slid out of his chair and stood up. He set his beer down on the side table and sauntered over to Severus. He put his hand on the back of the sofa and leaned over Severus looking down at him. "Sorry I like your cottage so much." 

"Are you drunk?" Severus looked Harry up and down. 

Harry rolled his lips and asked, "What answer will get me further?" 

"Further?" 

Harry leaned closer and kissed Severus. His mouth was very warm and his lips tasted of the red wine he had been drinking. He grabbed the front of Harry's jumper and pulled him down beside him, not breaking the kiss. 

They kissed for what felt like hours. Deep and hard, tongues sliding past each other, each exploring the other's lips and mouth. Severus's lips moved across Harry's cheeks and neck only to return again and again to Harry's mouth. Harry's lips burned from Severus's stubble but he wanted more. He loved the raw sensation of Severus’s hard kisses. 

Severus crawled into Harry's lap, straddling him, their cocks rubbing against each other as Severus pulled Harry's head back to kiss him more. Harry gripped the tops of Severus's thighs, digging his fingers into the muscles. He rolled his hips, trying to get more. 

"What do you want?" Severus said, in answer to Harry's moan of frustration as raised himself up on his knees, not giving Harry the friction he needed. 

"I want – " Harry pressed the flat of his hand to the front of Severus's trousers. "We should fuck." 

"Fuck?" Severus gave hint of a grin. He held Harry's hand to his crotch and rubbed against it. Severus's cock, so large and hard against Harry’s hand, made him groan. "How do you want to fuck? Mouths? Hands?" 

"I was thinking –" Harry began, his heart hammering in his chest. "A way we haven't." 

"You want my cock in your arse?" Severus suggested. 

"Yeah," Harry replied, his voice low. "I think I do. I don't know. I've never...I've never done either." 

That brought Severus up short. He stopped moving and looked down at Harry. "You've never..." Harry shook his head to answer the unfinished question. "That'll be new for us both. I've never been with someone who hasn't." 

"What was that?" Harry sat up straight, jostling Severus a little. "You weren't...when we got together I had already been...who was I with before you?" 

"You know I won't tell you." 

"But who? And when?" Harry gripped Severus's arm, trying to imagine who on earth could capture Harry in the way Severus had in less than two weeks. 

"Harry," Severus leaned down, kissing Harry softly. "Does it matter what the answer is? Right now, we’re together and you can be with me. If you want." Severus traced his hand down Harry's cheek, touching him very gently. 

"I want –" Harry said and kissed Severus again. 

Severus's lips ghosted across of the shell of Harry's ear as he whispered, "I want your cock in my arse."

Harry's entire body stiffened at the words and his cock throbbed noticeably. "That's what I like. You haven't asked." 

"Oh, well...I mean you only –" Severus sat back, his arse on Harry's knees, looking down at him, his expression deep, passionate. "I didn't think to ask," Harry said. 

"Well, I’m telling you now," said Severus. He reached for Harry's flies, undoing them, and began to stroke the top of Harry's dick. "Let's go to the bedroom." He slid backwards off Harry's lap, not relinquishing his touch on Harry's cock. 

Harry stood and stepped close to Severus, urging him to touch him more. "I've been thinking about your arse since I got here," Harry admitted as Severus literally led him by the cock to the bedroom. 

"Have a thing for my arse?" Severus teased as he backed into the bedroom. 

"And your cock, and your balls, and your mouth. I've a thing for you." Harry pushed Severus easily onto the bed; the bedroom, like the house, was small and cosy. The bed-frame squeaked as Harry crawled over Severus, kissing his neck as he removed his trousers. Severus shimmied under Harry as he pulled his trousers down. Severus kicked his trousers away and wrapped his legs around Harry's waist, thrusting up against Harry. 

Harry groaned at the press of Severus's cock on his and it only made him want more. He stood up and ripped open his jeans, shucking them off and throwing aside his jumper while Severus grabbed his wand and did some sort of spell. Harry couldn't tell what it was. They hadn't bothered turning on any lights and Harry only saw the small light blue flash from the tip of Severus’s wand.

Harry slid back onto the bed, pulling Severus close. He kissed Severus as he reached between them and took both cocks in his hand, stroking them together. Severus made a noise in his throat somewhere between pleasure and protest. He pushed Harry's hip away, rolling him unto his back. He reached between them and stopped Harry's hand from stroking. 

Harry groaned in frustration at that. It felt good, his cock rubbing against Severus. The feel of his hard silky shaft against Harry's made Harry’s blood run like fire. The pulse of it in his hand, the feel of their balls pressed together, overwhelmed Harry with desire.

"You'll make me come," Severus warned, sitting back between Harry's legs. 

"Isn't that the point?" Harry lifted his head looking at Severus and reaching for him. 

"No." Severus put a knee on one side of Harry, then the other. He rocked forward, bringing his head just above Harry's. His fringe hung down, half of his face completely obscured in the shadow of it, the tips of the soft hair tickling Harry's cheek. Severus’s eyes were burning as he looked at Harry and a hint of a wicked smile played on his lips.

Harry reached up, cupping Severus's cheek. He was about to kiss him when he suddenly felt Severus's hand around his cock and Severus pulled away from the kiss as he slowly pushed Harry's cock into his arse. 

Harry wanted it to last longer than it did. He wanted to last forever, knowing that no matter how long it lasted, it would never be enough. He wanted more of Severus, slick and hot around him. He'd always want more of touching Severus's chest, nipples, stomach, legs. He’d always want more of feeling Severus's dark hairs rise under Harry's touch as if it were electric. It would never be enough: the rhythm of their hips together, his dick driving into Severus, balls deep. Harry was mesmerised by the long expanse of Severus's pale, marred, but beautiful throat, exposed as he threw his head back and cried out as Harry filled him and he came hard in Harry's hand rocking over and over till he was done. 

They fell asleep, tangled together under a blanket Severus had pulled from the foot of the bed. Harry didn't sleep long and he woke up hard and aching. He was on his back and he looked to the side. Severus was on his side, back towards Harry. It was very dark in the room, and Harry couldn't see well without his glasses, but there was enough light from the fire still burning in the lounge that he could make out fuzzy shadows dancing across Severus's shoulder.

Harry could make out the small movement of inhale and exhale: rise and fall, rise and fall. Harry closed his eyes, listening for Severus's breath, the warmth of Severus so close making his cock ache. He reached down and touched himself. He'd maybe have a quick wank and go back to sleep, curled warm at Severus’s side

The bed shifted and dipped and Severus's hand was on Harry's thigh. Harry opened his eyes and looked over at Severus, who was looking at Harry over his shoulder.

"Again," Severus whispered, arching his back to fit his arse neatly against Harry’s abdomen.

Harry shifted closer, pressing his chest to Severus's back. Severus moved one leg up a bit and reached behind him, grabbing Harry's hip and pushing back on Harry. Harry rolled his hips forward in reply, thrusting into Severus. 

They rocked back and forth together, small noises of desperation coming from Severus's throat as Harry fucked him deeper, harder. Harry rested his forehead on the base of Severus's neck, as he explored Severus's back with teeth and tongue. With every scrape or nip of teeth Severus groaned and thrust back against Harry in a way that only encouraged Harry to bite more. 

Harry loved the feel of Severus's arse around his dick. He was slick and tight and the heat threatened to envelop Harry with every roll of hips. He loved the way Severus ground against him, moving his hips to draw Harry in, deeper and harder. 

Harry slid a hand over Severus's side, pausing with his palm laid flat across Severus's navel, feeling the quick rise and fall of breath. Harry lifted his hand and gripped Severus's cock and he gave it a slow, lazy stroke. 

Severus moved his hand over Harry’s and their fingers tangled as they stroked. Harry groaned at the feel of their hands stroking together. He adored Severus's sure, deft hands and their strong, elegant movements.

Severus moved his hand faster, pulling Harry with him. Harry looked down, over Severus's shoulder at their combined efforts. It was brilliant watching, feeling Severus fuck their hands. Harry snapped his hips, pushing deep as he could. 

Severus moaned and ground himself against Harry, his back arched and he cried out, coming in their hands. The orgasm came on so fast, it caught Harry by surprise and the feel of Severus's come spilling on him, Severus’s arse pulsing around him, was more than enough for him. Harry fucked into Severus deep and hard and came, spilling into Severus's arse. 

Harry didn't think he'd ever want to move again. After several long moments, he gingerly pulled out of Severus and flopped onto his back. Severus rolled onto his back as well, pressing against Harry from shoulder to thigh. He reached across Harry with his free hand, patting him until he found Harry's hand. He grabbed it by the wrist and placed it on of his stomach, holding it with his own. Severus made a satisfied sound and Harry chuckled softly in his throat before drifting off. 

The sun was bright even through the shuttered windows when they woke the next morning. Severus rolled out of bed without a word. He shuffled to the bathroom and Harry saw the bright red spots he had left between Severus's shoulder blades. Harry popped out of bed with a grin and hurried to grab Severus. He caught him around the waist, pulling Severus back against him. Harry gave him a light kiss on one of the marks and muttered, "Sorry." 

"I see you already have plans to make up for it," Severus replied as Harry pressed his stiff cock to Severus's arse. Harry kissed him on the shoulder again. "You might have to save your energy. The house smells like smoke, I think the Floo is still blocked." 

"Fuck me," Harry groaned. 

"Maybe in a bit."

X

The day was fine but they spent most of it fixing the Floo, again, and taking the shutters off the windows. After a late lunch, they took a walk along the beach. A late afternoon breeze seemed to promise a storm to come, but it was soft and cool for now.

Harry liked the look of the ocean here, liked getting lost in the steady movement of the waves. Severus stopped and turned, looking out at the ocean. He was squinting as if he were trying to see very far out. 

Harry couldn't help but smile looking at his profile. He liked Severus's hair short, liked being able to see the line of his jaw, the slight pucker of his mouth. Harry turned, facing the same way as Severus. They stood silently for a very long while, peace and tranquillity surrounding them. 

"I think we should move here," Harry said, breaking the silence. 

"No." 

"Don't say no so quickly. Listen to me." Harry turned to face Severus but Severus kept looking out at the ocean. "It's nice here. It's lovely, quiet –" 

"Wait till the tourists show up." 

"–peaceful, and the house is the right size for us." 

"No." 

"No? Why no? You're not even listening to me," Harry said, feeling frustration rise up in him. 

"I am listening to you," Severus said and added, "I'm not making decisions about where we live with you." 

"With me? I live both places too –" 

"No, you don't." Severus words were spoken so sharply they cut across Harry. "You don't belong here. You are out of time –" 

"I know –" 

"You cannot make changes to this time, Harry. You know that." 

"But I'm still me. This is my life," Harry pointed out. 

"Yes, in ten years. Your life now is the one you left." 

"I didn’t mean to come here. I would go back if I could." 

This got Severus to finally turn and look at him. "Would you?" he asked with a single lifted brow. 

"Yes!" 

"Don't lie to me or yourself. I can see you, feel you, settling into life here—" 

"That's because of you," Harry said, both loving and hating Severus at this moment. 

"Do you know how you got here?" Severus asked, crossing his arms in front of him. 

"Wish magic. You and Hermione both told me." 

"Right. And do you know how to undo the wish?" 

Harry shrugged, looking down at his feet and then back out towards the ocean. "Haven't given it much thought." 

"Because you're still a lazy child." 

"That’s not true!" Harry shouted, glaring furiously back at Severus. 

"If you wanted to go back, you would've figured out how to make another wish and you'd be gone." Severus spoke matter-of-factly and Harry hated him for it. He wanted Severus to act more angry with him. He wanted the deathly quiet voice. He wanted Severus to push him till he exploded. It would be so much easier. 

"I can't make myself go back like this," Harry said with a snap of his fingers. 

"You're right, not exactly. In the corridor at Hogwarts, do you know what you stumbled into?" 

"No idea." 

"A wishing well." 

"There's no wishing well at Hogwarts," Harry said dismissively. 

"There is, or rather there was. It was uncovered when layers of stone were blown away in the battle. It's not there now. Minerva saw it for what it was and had it taken apart, the pipes rerouted so no water would flow there."

"There was a leak when I was in talking to Nick." Harry could've smacked himself in the head. He had forgotten the water dripping from the walls. 

Severus's mouth thinned. "Of course there was." 

"How did you find all this out?" Harry asked, his mind reeling. 

"After you showed me on your map, I went back to Hogwarts. I had a look around, asked Minerva about the restorations. Then I ordered books from the Hogwarts archives –"

"Hogwarts has archives?" Harry couldn't imagine where those were. 

"Yes, Potter, Hogwarts has archives." Harry nearly flinched at the use of his surname. "In the mid-sixteenth century there was a rash of luck at Hogwarts – unearned high marks, acne clearing up over night, you get the idea. But bad things happened as well. Entire house teams came down with dragon pox before a match. A girl's hair all fell out over night. They eventually had it traced back to the wishing well, and solved the problem by building a magically reinforced wall around it. A good solution until it wasn't, and here you are." 

"And now you're stuck with me because I can't bloody well go back. The well is gone." Harry tried to keep the triumph out of his voice but he very much liked the idea of staying. 

"You're different than those students of long ago, however. You didn't wish for better marks or treacle for pudding. Your wish was from deep in your soul, born of grief and desperation. Your wish pulled you out of time and put you here, which probably means the twenty-seven year-old you is living the seventeen year-old’s life."

Harry tried and failed to imagine what his grown-up self felt like being seventeen again – probably bloody happy he didn't have to go to work. "War's over and he's clever enough to be Head Auror. I’m sure he'll be fine there." 

"He's probably going spare trying to figure out how to get back here." 

"You don't know that," Harry scoffed. "He is me, after all. I think I know what’s best for him – me." 

Severus gave Harry a withering look. "You liked it so well there you wished yourself here?" 

Harry glowered at Severus. "Fine, I'll go back. You want me gone and I'll go back. Tell me how to do it and I will. I'll leave you alone and you can have mature, grown-up Harry." 

"You're quite grown-up already." 

"You want the one who doesn't bitch about his job –" 

"You always bitch about your job." 

"The one who likes living in Battersea." 

" _We_ like living in Battersea." 

"The one you're so in love with." 

Severus's hand shot out, gripping Harry's upper arm, pulling him close so their faces were only inches apart. The wind picked up, whipped Severus's fringe into his eyes. "I'm in love with you," Severus hissed through his teeth. "You're a fucking idiot but you're still mine and it's killing me to tell you that you have to go back." 

"Let go," Harry said, trying to pull away. "You wouldn't be sending me back if you cared." 

Severus squeezed his hand tighter. His eyes bored into Harry. "I can pretend a lot of things, Potter, but I'm not pretending that. I have loved you for longer than five years. And as I said before, it's you in there, no matter what magic has happened. You have seriously cocked up time and I am terrified that when you go back, that's it." 

"That's it?" 

Severus let go of Harry's arm and turned away. "You created a loop...half a loop. You have to go back to close the loop, but the magic is so precarious that everything may break completely."

"You mean I'll die?" Harry's head was starting to hurt. This was too much. The wind whipped again, blowing cold and biting across Harry's neck. 

"You're not going to die," Severus said firmly. "I only mentioned it because...you have to close the loop otherwise more and more interference will happen. The longer you stay, the harder it could be to fix."

"Point me to the nearest wishing well and I'll go back," Harry said sarcastically. "I'll jump right in and _pop_ , I'll be back at Hogwarts."

"You're being an arse," Severus sniffed. 

"You're being an arse," Harry yelled. "You told me I have to wish myself back so I'll go do that. I'll go wish myself back. I wish I was back at Hogwarts! I wish I was seventeen and there were shitty funerals, and a fucked up castle! I wish that I was fucking seventeen and had to deal with everything to build a life instead of being here and being happy with you!" Severus looked away from him shaking his head and Harry wanted scream and rage – he felt no more ready to get himself from that place right after the war to a better life than he had when he left. Harry had a sudden idea. He patted his pockets frantically and found a single penny in the pocket of his hoodie. 

He took it out and walked towards the ocean. "See this?" Harry said, turning around, waving it at Severus. "I'll throw this in the ocean and wish myself back." 

Severus didn't say a word but his jaw tightened. 

Harry got to the edge of beach, the water lapping up to the toes of his shoes. He took the coin and he flung it out as far as he could. He didn't make a wish like he had when he spoke to Nick. He didn't say anything out loud. All he knew was what he wanted in his heart. He didn't want to fight with Severus. He only wanted to be happy. He wanted Severus to be happy. 

He turned his back on the water and walked back up towards Severus, who was looking at him, his face stony. "There," Harry said, coming to stand next to him. "Hopefully there's some water spirit I've never heard of that'll grant me my wish and you can have your perfect life back." Harry said the words spitefully. They were meant to hurt Severus but Harry felt them like daggers in his chest. He didn't mean what he said, but he did mean what he had wished.

X

"Are we out of whisky?" Harry asked, riffling through the cabinet where he thought the bottle was.

"I hid it from you," Severus replied without looking up. "And you can put your wand away. I put an anti-Summoning jinx on it." 

"You can't hide the whisky from me, I'm not some kid." 

"Fooled me." 

Harry slammed the cabinet door, and grabbed a beer that was sitting on the counter. He twisted off the cap and tossed it on the table so it landed just in front of the paper Severus was reading. Severus’s lips pursed slightly and he turned the page of his paper, not looking up, as he said, "Too much beer gives you a headache." 

"No, it doesn't," Harry said defiantly. "You don't know that." 

"I do know that. I also knew to hide the whisky." 

"You didn't have to hide it. I wasn't going to drink it all." 

"I know. Too much whisky and you'll be throwing up." Severus set down his paper and looked up at Harry. "Drinking won't solve your problems. It won't change what has to be done." 

"It'll make them better right now." Harry raised his bottle in a toast to Severus and drank deeply from it. 

To Harry's surprise, Severus snorted at Harry's cheek, and looked back down at his paper. "I told you that the first time you came here." 

"Why, were you pissed out of your mind?" 

"Making a good attempt at it." 

"And what?" Harry said, trying to get more out of the story. "Let me guess. I marched in and knocked the bottle out of your hand." 

"Not that dramatic, I assure you. You called me pathetic, maybe an arse, the details are foggy." Severus looked up from his paper and gave Harry an amused look. "I was very drunk. And thinking more about murder than anything else." 

"Murder? You wanted to kill me?" 

"No, my bloody Secret Keeper but he was already dead." Severus crossed his arms in front of himself and shrugged as if it didn't matter really. 

Harry made a noise in the back of this throat and walked around the table to stand closer to Severus. "Your Secret Keeper was dead but I managed to find my way here." 

Severus looked up at Harry, then back down to his paper, and shrugged again as he turned the last page. 

Harry set his bottle down on the table with a soft _thunk_. He brushed his fingers over Severus's which were holding the edge of the paper. "I don't want to go back," Harry whispered and Severus's body stiffened as if readying for another row. "No," Harry said, laying his hand on Severus's. "I know I have to but I don't want to. I –" Harry hesitated. There was so much he didn't want about his own time that he didn't even know where to start. Severus's hand turned over in his, twining their fingers together. Harry looked down at their linked hands. So many things he didn't want, and only one thing he did. 

"I'll lose you if I go back," Harry said around the very big lump which had formed in his throat. 

Severus didn't look up. He stared down at their joined hands. He replied just as quietly as Harry had spoken to him. "I told you where to find me." 

"Right," Harry said, wiping a hand under his nose. "What if you hate me when you wake up?" 

"I hate everyone then." 

"I don't want all those people to be dead. I don't want to be reminded every day I get up and put on a pair of dress robes." 

Severus took a slow steady breath and turned his head up towards Harry. "You will flagellate yourself forever about that. Time heals some wounds better than others." Severus pulled Harry's arm till Harry was crouched next to Severus. Severus gripped Harry's shoulder and looked intently at him. "We didn't have our five year anniversary." 

"What?" Harry said, completely confused. "When is it? And how long?" 

"We tell people our anniversary is in May so we can escape the reminders of the war without too many questions. This year we went away for longer because there was an astonishing amount of fuss. It's been a decade since the war, people saw it as more of a reason to remind us of it." 

Harry tried to think why people wanted to celebrate the war being over. It was practically yesterday to him and he couldn't imagine any sort of pomp and circumstance around it seeming right. "I can't say I'm sorry I missed it," Harry admitted, trying to soften the pain of thinking about the war. 

"You were not sorry we missed it. And that's not because we were off swimming naked in the Adriatic Sea –" 

"I bet it helped." Harry couldn't help but grin at that. 

"It did help," Severus admitted. "The war is far away from here. We are happy, it's easier for you. But sometimes the war is in here." Severus touched Harry's chest, laying his hand across Harry's beating heart. "I can see it when I look at you. You don’t get propped up to make some bloody useless speech and I get a sunburnt arse for the trouble." 

"Isn't it expected of me?" Harry thought of the look of disapproval Hermione would give him. 

"Fuck what is expected of you. Fuck funerals. You have the galleons, send all the fucking flowers you want. Fuck everyone and fuck everything. You deserve to be fucking happy and dragging yourself around to be punished again isn't what you need and it's far from what you deserve." 

Harry squeezed Severus's hand leaning into him. "When is our anniversary?" Harry asked, mouth muffled against Severus's chest. He felt Severus chuckle slightly. 

"I'm not telling you." 

"How long have we been together?" Harry asked, looking up at Severus. 

"Not telling you that either." 

"How bad was your arse sunburnt?" Severus laughed at this and Harry felt relieved with the sound of it. 

"I gave you aloe to rub on it."

"Reckon I enjoyed that." Harry grinned up at Severus. 

"More than I did. You came all over the bed before anything really happened." 

"I have a thing for your arse." Severus pulled Harry up for a kiss and Harry pulled him down, nearly tipping him out of his chair. Harry caught him and then they were clutching each other, laughing and kissing. The laughter didn't die as they hastily stood and undid their trousers. They laughed as Harry spun Severus to lie him back on the table, Severus continued to chuckle as Harry licked a path down his chest to his cock. The rumble of his amusement in Severus's belly only died as Harry took him in his mouth. 

His hands tangled and pulled in Harry's hair as he thrust and came in Harry's mouth. Severus pulled Harry up to him, kissing him hard, sucking on Harry's come-laced tongue. Harry put a hand flat on the table and pushed up, leaning over Severus, looking in his eyes. "Pull your legs back," Harry said. "I want to fuck you." 

Severus came again when Harry was buried deep in arse. The power of making Severus hard and making him come again made Harry's head spin and his knees nearly buckled as he came. He collapsed onto the chair behind him, slumping against the back. Severus rolled his head to the side, looking down at Harry with an unreadable expression on his face. 

He looked at Harry the same way later as they pulled back the covers to get into bed. "Why are you looking at me like that?" Harry asked, sliding onto his side of the bed. 

"Like what?" Severus said, turning his back to Harry to pull off his shirt and throw it aside before getting in bed next to Harry. 

Harry shifted closer to Severus, enjoying the feel of his skin pressed to Harry's. 

"I don't know," Harry said, not quite sure how to put it into words. "There's not much in the look. I can't read it at all." 

"Perhaps I'm thinking things I don't want you to know," Severus said lightly. "Move your arm. Your elbow is digging into my ribs." 

"Sorry," Harry said, rolling onto his side to face Severus. "What are you keeping from me?" 

"If I had something to tell you, then I would. I have no idea what expression you’re talking about." 

"Like this." Harry propped himself up on his elbow and glowered down at Severus. 

Severus scoffed and his cheeks pinked. "I don't look like that." 

"I'm not very good at it," Harry said. 

"Of course you're not. I know everything you're thinking even before you know you're thinking it," Severus replied smugly. 

"Fine. What am I thinking now?" Harry raised his brows at Severus. 

"Same thing you always are. When's the next time I'm going to touch your prick or how can you get me to touch your prick." Severus looked at Harry with easy triumph. 

"That's not very hard to guess." Harry pouted slightly. 

"Because you've a very nice cock and I like touching it." Severus pushed Harry onto his back and moved over on top of him till he was settled between Harry's legs, slowly rolling their hard cocks together. 

"Severus?" Harry whispered sometime later after Severus had touched every inch of him and drawn out his pleasure till he exploded in a spine-melting orgasm. Severus grunted next to him, indicating he was listening. "What if I don't know when I go back? What if like last time, I make some wish and then I pop up back in my own time? What happens then?" 

He felt Severus shift and move closer to him. He wrapped one arm around Harry's waist, reaching for his far hand to hold it. "Then I can't wait to meet you." He pressed a kiss to Harry's temple and whispered, "Go to sleep Harry. It will be all right."

X

The sun was too bright when Harry woke up. He could tell even without his eyes open. He groaned and pulled the covers over his head. Severus said something about working on the garden wall today; Harry wasn't ready for that yet.

He extended a leg out behind him trying to reach across the bed to touch Severus but he couldn't find him. Perhaps Severus was already up? Harry flung himself over to the other side of the bed pawing at the sheets, thinking maybe he missed him – Severus liked waking Harry up – but Harry felt only bed. He opened his eyes and immediately knew something was wrong. 

He threw back the sheets as he sat up. The cottage, their bed, his Severus, all gone. 

"No, no, no!" Harry said, hastily getting out of bed. He patted down the bed, his four-poster bed, but it was nothing but a pile of sheets. He dropped to his knees desperately looking under it, nothing but maybe a couple dirty socks. "No, no, no," Harry said frantically, getting to his feet. 

He checked every single bed and they were all empty, just as they should be. "No, no, no," he said, running into the bathroom. He shoved his glasses on his face and looked in the mirror. It was him, the old him. This side of skinny, same glasses he'd had for ages, and pyjamas. Harry wore pyjamas when he was a kid. 

Panic rose up in Harry's chest. "No, no, no," he said again. He wasn't a kid though. He was a grown man, with a house and a job and a relationship. 

He grabbed his head as if he could block out exactly what was happening here. "FUCK!" he yelled and violently kicked the bin, sending it flying across the room, slamming into the wall. 

"God, fuck," Harry cursed as he hobbled out of the bathroom, back towards his bed, his toe throbbing magnificently. "Severus, where are you?" Harry pleaded, even though he knew there would be no answer. 

He got to his bed and slumped down on it, holding his head in his hands. "Fuck," he said, remembering yesterday on the beach. How he had yelled and made that wish into the ocean. "Fuck," he said again, for not realising at the time how much passion he had put into that wish. He lifted his head up as another realisation hit him. "Fuck you," Harry said to Severus. "Fuck you." It was worth repeating. 

Severus had known. Harry was sure of it. He had distracted Harry, kept him from thinking about it too much. He had managed to change, slide by, or avoid the subject every time Harry had brought it up. Harry gave a derisive snort. Severus had distracted Harry by having sex with him. Harry couldn't lie to himself; he could forgive Severus that distraction. 

He wondered if it had been real. Had all that really happened? Had he really seen what his life would be like in ten years? He remembered it so well; the Ministry, the house in Battersea, the cottage, Severus. It was all moments ago, but it was a million years away. 

"It happened," Harry told himself. 

He got off the bed, throwing off his pyjamas and pulling on jeans and a t-shirt. He would prove it was real. He dropped to his knees, digging in his trunk till he pulled out his Marauders' Map. He pointed his wand at it, saying the incantation, bringing it to life. 

"Slughorn, Slughorn," Harry said and bit his lip as he stared at the map, looking for the man's name. He checked the dungeons first. No one was there. Harry's heart gave a painful thump. He was sure if Severus was alive, that's where he'd be hiding. 

Harry's gaze flew across the map, his panic making it impossible for him to focus. He stood up, still studying it as he walked to the door. It was hard to find anyone with the castle so compromised.

Harry looked at it again, willing Severus Snape to come gliding onto it, his black robes billowing behind him. A relief so complete, like none Harry had ever known, washed through him. There it was, _Severus Snape_ , one unmoving, but very alive, name. 

Harry ran through the castle, panic and relief at war in Harry's chest. He didn't know what to do, he didn't know what to feel. He got to the main staircase and jumped several steps down before checking the map again. It looked like he was behind the wall, in a hidden room behind Slughorn's office. 

Harry stuffed the map into his pocket and ran on, bursting through the first door he found. 

"Merlin! Harry!" Slughorn yelled, falling out of his chair behind his desk. "Give an old man a heart attack," Slughorn said, getting to his feet and dusting himself off. 

"Where is he?" Harry demanded, looking around the room. The castle was a mess but this room, this looked just like Slughorn's rooms had looked before. Couldn't fix the castle but the old bastard made sure he was comfortable. 

"I don't know what –" 

"I know Severus Snape is alive. Where is he?" Harry started feeling the walls of the room as if some secret passage would open up. 

"I don't know who told you –" 

"I figured it out," Harry said and rounded on Slughorn, "Where is he?" 

"Give me a moment. Not really sure I should do this. Privacy you know..." Slughorn blustered but pulled out his wand anyway. With a flick of his wand he sent one bookcase flying one way, and a china hutch flying another, revealing a hidden door. Harry rushed to it, opening it up. 

It was a small room, full of bandages, potions, and a cauldron simmering away peacefully. It was very bright in the room, the windows all facing east towards the rising sun. Right in front of the windows was a bed that looked like it had been taken from the hospital wing. 

Severus looked almost lifeless, tucked under the sheets and blankets. He was so very pale, sickly pale, and Harry could see his blue veins prominent in his hand where it rested on his stomach. Harry looked at his face; it was the face he knew well but it was wrong. Severus looked older somehow than he had just last night, his face lined with pain and fatigue. His hair was wrong, too. It was long again and had no hint of grey. Someone had washed it and tidied it. A pang of jealousy went through Harry as he wondered who had been caring for Severus in that way. 

Harry's gaze went to Severus’s neck, his beautiful, pale neck, made a mess of by the snake. The scars were vivid red, a painful, burning looking sort of red. Some sort of paste was smeared across the un-bandaged skin.

He looked awful. Harry felt a tearing in his throat, thinking he might cry. But he had indeed survived. How in the hell had he survived? Relief washed over Harry. Severus was here, he hadn't died at all. 

Harry saw Severus’s chest rise and fall with smooth, even breaths. Harry could remember so well that chest under his hands, the feel of his heart beating. Harry moved to reach out, his arm lifting slightly. He wanted to touch Severus, to feel his body warm, alive under his fingers. Somewhere through the layers of time, Harry felt the echo of a touch, a mouth, Severus's mouth warm on Harry's skin.

**Author's Note:**

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